


Do You Permit It?

by SlowBurnRomantic



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Adulthood, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art, Bottom Enjolras, Bottom Grantaire, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Oblivious Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, Rimming, Slow Burn, Top Enjolras, Top Grantaire, Trust, romantic dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22151545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlowBurnRomantic/pseuds/SlowBurnRomantic
Summary: Les Amis have grown into successful adults, with Grantaire opening a stunningly successful exhibit of the erotic side of faith and is now swamped with commissions. Enjolras runs a successful nonprofit, and is now swamped with solving the endless problems society presents him. But he begins to feel uneasy that all of his success has come at the price of his own personal experiences. Will Grantaire, his most experienced and hedonistic friend, be willing to help guide him through the mysteries and embarrassment of being a 28 year old virgin, or will it all come tumbling to the ground?
Relationships: Enjolras & Grantaire (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Kudos: 67





	1. Coral Roses

12:30 PM-- What a horrible time to be awake, but you have to start the day sometime. Grantaire rolled over in bed, reaching under his pillow to find his phone and quiet the insistent buzzing and dinging that inevitably happened as soon as his Do Not Disturb feature automatically shut off. Who needs an alarm clock when you have the incessant rat race of the modern world to wake up to? His screen lit up with a blue light as he swiped down to see his notifications and calendar reminders that would shape his nebulous day when he saw a message that caused his heart to speed up in his chest.

Enjolras: Hey Grantaire! Hope this finds you well.  
Can I come over for dinner tonight at seven thirty?  
It has been far too long since I have seen you and I was hoping we could catch up  
I have ordered some groceries to be delivered to you, they should arrive at 5:00.  
You know I love linguine with clams in white wine sauce, so I ordered from that cookbook you gave me. Let me know if there is anything else I should bring!  
Oh, unless tonight doesn’t work…  
Okay, text me when you get up and let me know if you’d rather do this tonight or tomorrow night.  
See you soon.

Grantaire groaned he wants something from me. This would either be some political campaign or a petition, maybe a poster or an ad. Something. Enjolras is a man with a vision of the world he wants to live in, a plan on how to get there, and a horrifically micromanaged schedule to get it all done. He doesn’t just stop by for dinner, he wants something.

There was a time, many years ago, when his friends were all piss poor college students who never had access to a good meal when they accidentally discovered, much to his chagrin, that Grantaire was a fabulous cook. He had started working at restaurants while in high school so that he could emancipate himself, and the recipes he picked up at work had made his kitchen quite the popular dinner destination when he got a bit older. The only problem was that they wanted to eat him out of house and home, so he made a cookbook for all of his friends one Christmas that listed eighteen recipes he was willing to make, as well as the exact ingredients that he would need. It had been a few months since it had been used, but it used to be a regular feature of his time in art school. Hey, it kept him fed, it kept him from being lonely, and it kept him out of trouble. But now Enjloras had pulled it out for the first time in what? Seven months? Last time he wanted a poster and some more warm bodies at a protest, so he pulled this exact same stunt. What exactly would he be getting Grantaire into this time? 

When Enjolras asked Grantaire for anything, he always got it. That was what was so infuriating! He knew he would do it, whatever it was, because his all encompassing nihilism occupied every atom of the world except for the ones that happened to be blessed enough to be a part of Enjolras. Grantaire believed in nothing. Nothing at all… except for Enjolras. What was even worse, Enjolras knew that, but still didn’t take advantage. He asked for enthusiastic assistance from all of his friends, and in his whirlwind of charisma, he ruled his own small kingdom of doctors, lawyers, highly educated men, and one artist. Him. Grantaire. The least socially useful of the bunch. He was the least wealthy, the least consequential, the least attractive… and yet Enjolras was choosing to take one night out of his busy schedule to share a meal and enlist him in his latest scheme to remake the world… whatever it may be. Oh well, nothing for it. He knew he would do it, so he might as well bite the bullet. He quickly swiped in a reply before his brain got the better of him, sent it off into the void, and started his day. 

Grantaire: 7:30 sounds great. See you then. 

Graintaire unwound himself from his sheets and stepped out of bed, stretching the kinks from his neck and back and running his thick hands through his black curly hair. He needed to shower. He needed to shave. He ran through the list of what had to happen before Enjolras arrived: He needed to do laundry, make the bed, do the dishes, sweep up, clean up his work space… Fuck that. He needed coffee. He stumbled from his small bedroom into the large art studio portion of his apartment. Technically it was a kitchen, dining room, living room and art studio all rolled into one, but as the year had grown colder and the commissions had really rolled in after his last gallery, the studio had largely taken over. Grantaire set his coffee machine dripping and went to the fridge to get some Bailey’s to sweeten his drink and help take the edge off from last night. He had been up until 5 AM. Again. Working. His nerves were fraying, but he had 13 commissions to finish before the holidays, and the grueling schedule it demanded of him was taking him apart at the edges. Right, Irish coffee in the shower and off to start his day. 1:00-- four hours until groceries arrived, six and a half until Enjolras did. 

* * *

As the afternoon wound on, Grantaire made himself and his apartment presentable-- even the parts that he doubted Enjolras would see, but he could always dream. He still had enough time left to spend time laying in the groundwork for his two trickiest commissions. Just simple line work on canvas. When his golden hours hit tonight he might come back to flesh each of these out a bit and put in some time actually getting into the paintwork. The work calmed him as he relaxed into it and poured his concentration into the compositions, and before he knew it his doorbell was ringing and he was receiving bags of groceries… with one small bouquet of flowers, beautiful coral roses. Lush and delicate, these flowers set Grantaire on edge. ...What exactly did Enjolras want that he felt so bad asking for it that he had to include coral fucking roses in his grocery order?? 

Grantaire’s heart raced as he put the flowers on the table and prepared the meal, first with the dessert that he knew Enjolras would melt for-- creme brulee. Next he moved on to the pasta dish, whipping up a creamy white wine sauce with fresh clams and some spears of asparagus for variety. The pasta was on the boil, the clock was winding ever towards 7:30, and dinner was just about ready to be on the table. Grantaire took out his mini butane torch that Joly had bought him for Christmas one year with this exact purpose in mind and crisped some sugar on top of the cooling vanilla custard. He plated two large portions of pasta with the indecent amount of sauce that he knew Enjolras loved. 7:15. He knew Enjolras was politely waiting down the block so that he didn’t impose too early. That damned, blessed, perfect, infuriating man was so utterly punctual that he always made sure to show up early, but never to arrive on the doorstep until the exact minute he said he would. Grantaire opened his texts and shot off a new one to get Enjolras in gear before dinner got cold.

Grantaire: Come on in Apollo, dinner is served, the door is unlocked.

A minute later his doorbell rang. After a few beats it opened to reveal the man of his dreams. Enjolras was a petite man, with piercing blue eyes, cherubic blond curls, pale skin, and a bone structure that sculptors would weep for. Thin, with a lightly athletic build, and dressed for the weather in tight black pants, black boots, a black leather belt, and a red leather jacket. Blond ringlets spilled out from beneath a woolen cap, a grey scarf wound around his slender throat, with one hand shoved into his coat pocket and the other still resting on the door knob. He shut the door behind himself as he stepped through and flashed a dazzling white smile to Grantaire as his eyes swept the room and took in the profusion of easels all clustered in a semi circle around the edge of the spacious and mostly empty room. 

“Grantaire. Thanks so much for having me at such short notice!”

“Don’t mention it, Apollo. Dinner is on the table-- take your coat off, shoes by the door, and come eat.”

Enjolras perched on the stool by the front door and obliged, leaving his immaculate black boots next to Grantaire’s significantly larger beat up black Converse by the door, unzipping his jacket to reveal a crisp white collared shirt, tucked in to show off his slender waist at the top of his jeans. He opened the nearby coat closet and slipped his coat inside to a waiting hanger, having learned this domestic dance from Grantaire long ago and always being sure to follow it to a T. While Enjolras was doing this, Grantaire poured two glasses of pinot grigio for them and took a seat, waiting for his guest to join him so that he could understand exactly what kind of visit he was in for. 

Enjolras pulled out a chair and sat down at the dining table, still flushed from the cold night air, and started a suspiciously cheery line of small talk. His nonprofit was flourishing, helping wrongly convicted prisoners gain freedom and get access to social aid in society to help them re-enter the world on equal footing. His community organization had taken a nice turn lately as he had gotten together the doctors and funding, largely with Combeferre’s connections, to send a bus with a doctor to each school once a month so that any kid that needed healthcare would be guaranteed access to it. He was working on getting local dentists to accept a number of free patients each month in a lottery system, with the hope to turn their city into the type of place where every kid can grow up in a better world than their parents did and no citizens suffered unduly from lack of access to basic social services. His actions had drawn the attention of the ACLU, a lifelong dream of his, and he would be interviewing with them as soon as his coming campaign against hunger got fully up and running, some time in January.

As Enjolras spoke, the fire behind his eyes sparked an ache in Grantaire’s stomach-- he knew in his heart that Enjolras would change the world or die trying. He longed for the former, even if he had to watch from afar, because he couldn’t imagine living in the world of the latter. His eyes drifted down to Enjolras’ perfect pink cupid’s bow lips as he spoke. He hardly even noticed as he ate his way through his richly delicious pasta dish that he had so lovingly crafted, he was so wrapped up in the fantasy world that Enjolras spun around him. Damn it! He thought, he has me again. When it became his turn to share his recent news, he reluctantly shared his recent successes. 

He had opened a gallery of exclusively his own work called The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa that he had filled with his religious pieces of erotic devotion. It had been done tastefully, but undeniably had an undercurrent of sensuality. The taboo nature of the show had brought in a far larger crowd than he had been expecting, both getting reviewed in two local papers and having sold out the pieces for the end of the run. Not only that, but he had been commissioned by 13 different individuals for personal pieces that oddly covered a variety of topics, which should keep him up to his neck in work until the new year.

As he spoke, Enjolras’ eyes widened. 

“I had no idea that you were doing a gallery! Why didn’t I hear anything about this? I feel awful! I would have loved to have seen it!”

Grantaire blushed, “I’ll, uh, I’ll be sure to tell you next time I’m putting something up. Some time in the spring probably…” I couldn’t have invited you! Your eyes, your lips, your passion-- you were positively dripping from each painting, and I was NOT ready for you to know how much you inspire me to see you in… a variety of ways.

Grantaire stood and gathered the plates, taking them to the sink and going to the fridge for desserts.

“Thank you so much for dinner Grantaire. It is just as delicious as I remembered it being.”

“Don’t mention in,” Grantaire’s voice floated out from within the fridge as he emerged with two ramekins, placing one delicate creme brulee in front of Enjolras and one at his seat. 

“Oh Grantaire! You shouldn’t have! Creme brulee? You know that’s my favorite!”

“Always happy to please,” Grantaire smirked, handing him a small spoon. He wasn’t even planning on eating his until Enjolras had left, opting instead to watch his face as he consumed the creamy treat bite by bite, licking the spoon in a way that made his pants feel far too tight. As Enjolras finished his dessert, he flashed his deep blue eyes up and caught Grantaire staring, who over corrected by grabbing his wine to take a drink and break eye contact.

“You know Grantaire,” he started shyly, “I don’t have any regrets about my life.” Where is this going? Regrets? Grantaire took another sip of his wine, refilling both of their glasses nervously.

“What could you possibly regret, Apollo?” Grantaire was trying to stay afloat in the new direction this conversation was taking, uncomfortable with what might be coming next, mind reeling at what it could possibly be. 

“I have put the movements I work on before my own self at every turn, and because I have done that I haven’t taken so many opportunities that have come my way. I don’t regret any of it, but I have begun to feel a bit silly and naive of late…”

“Naive in believing that you could change the world? Can it be?? Have you finally come to your senses?” Grantaire teased, putting comedy as a front for his fear that Enjolras was saying what he hoped he wasn’t saying. Was Enjolras actually considering leaving the public sphere? Who would he be… what would he be, if he did that?

“What? No! Not that! I have made major strides on that front. I was speaking of something of a more… personal nature.” With this, Enjolras blushed a light pink and Grantaire’s jaw dropped. Enjolras… blushing? Had he ever seen Enjolras blush in embarrassment instead of turning red with rage? What the... He paused and continued, “Grantaire, we have been friends for quite a long time, so I don’t think I need to tell you exactly how much time I spent on the movement while you and all of our friends got on with the business of being college students, living your lives, growing up and making mistakes. Well… I never did that. I have begun to feel more than a bit embarrassed by all of the things that I didn’t do while I was young that have morphed from things that I just haven’t done in general into things that I am becoming afraid that I will never do...” he trailed off uncomfortably while Grantaire stared across the table at him in mounting concern. 

“What are you saying, Enjolras?” Grantaire took the final, deep mouthful of pinot grigio into his mouth, far too sober for a conversation this serious… whatever it was.

“I am saying that, as a friend, as a person I respect largely because of our many disagreements and long history, that… well, would you, that is…” His eyes flicked up towards Grantaire and back down to the table, “Would you teach me how to make love?” 

Grantaire choked on spitting out his wine in shock, leaning over the table coughing and struggling for air. Enjolras, flustered and embarrassed, leapt up to get a glass of tap water that Grantaire gratefully gulped down in an attempt to get the wine out of his lungs. He wasn’t sure what happened. He knew he couldn’t have heard saintly Enjolras right! Teach him how to what exactly? Enjolras?? Wasn’t he asexual? As soon as Grantaire was breathing again, Enjolras backed up towards the door quietly.

“Um, I think I should go…” he mumbled, awkwardly avoiding looking at Grantaire, face the fiery red of embarrassment of someone who has just said something they know they can never take back.

“Oh no, Angel. You aren’t getting out of this conversation that easily,” Grantaire tried to purr, ruined only by another cough from his recent choking fit, “You just took me by surprise and now I have questions that only you can answer, and I feel like I deserve the right to at least ask them. You don’t have to answer, I just want to figure out how exactly I got to this point, and what I can do to get there again.”

Enjolras shuffled back to his chair and awkwardly sat down, still refusing to look at Grantaire, hands reaching up to cradle his forehead as he slumped into the chair, burning red. “You deserve an explanation, and I felt pretty good about my opening argument, but your reaction was… not exactly what I expected, and now I don’t feel as confident in the outcome of this situation as I did in the beginning of the meal. So um… what do you want to know?” He sounded so defeated that it broke Grantaire’s heart and he needed to reassure Enjolras. He chose his words and delivery carefully, leaning towards the playful in hopes to lighten the mood a bit. 

“First, let me say that I am both flattered and honored to be thought of by you in such delicious situations, I had never imagined. Second, I just… well, we all thought that you were asexual, so I never saw this coming. So you… aren’t?”

Enjolras glanced up shyly at Grantaire, face burning crimson, and began quietly, “No. No, I’m not asexual. I’m gay, and I’ve always known that, I just… I never seemed to have the time or inclination to act on it when there was so much else to do. Am I making any sense? Like in high school I was starting the GSA at my private Catholic school, which took a lot of convincing, and phone banking for progressive candidates, and I just, well, I figured I would have time when I was in college. Then I got to college, and there was Les Amis de l’ABC and so many social ills that I could spend my time on… so how would I find the time to attend to my own interests? How would I find the time to meet someone and fall in love when I barely had the time to work on all of the issues that I saw around me? Before I knew it four years had passed and I was in law school-- and of course I didn’t have time while I was in law school, because I needed to stand out as a legal scholar and make my mark to the point that I would get a good position for my future. Then I started my nonprofit, which took me away from law entirely, and when I look back now I see all of these years where I know that I always made the right decision, but it was never a decision that allowed me to put myself first and I feel so trapped in myself now that I can’t think of any other way out...”

Grantaire was enthralled by this level of vulnerability on display from the fiercest man he knew. It was honest and heartbreaking and damn it so arousing. 

“So you decided that it was time and decided to choose… me? Why?” Enjolras peered up nervously for a brief moment before averting his eyes again. “Look at me Apollo, don’t be shy. You are a bold and passionate man, and this is a big thing you’re doing right now. Own it. Do you think we didn’t all know that you were a virgin? Do you think that anyone judged you for that? We all just figured that you weren’t interested and had too many better things to do. You aren’t exactly blowing my mind with this new information, Apollo. There’s no reason to be embarrassed because you’ve done nothing wrong. I will respect you and follow your lead whether or not you’ve travelled down that road. Now eyes on me-- why, with every option under the sun, would you opt for me?” Enjolras nodded once, straightened his shoulders and gazed directly and disarmingly into Grantaire’s eyes before he spoke.

“Isn’t it obvious, Grantaire? You’re gay. I’m gay. You are a complete hedonist, so you know exactly how to enjoy yourself, and I clearly don’t. Plus you may be playful with me, and we may disagree and bicker more often than not, but you respect me, and I know that I can trust you. I know I’ll make mistakes, and I know that you won’t judge me on them. You’ll set me on the right path, but you won’t use any of it against me. You’ve shown me time and again over the years that I can rely on you no matter what, and that’s what I want for my first time. I had been hoping to fall madly in love with someone and learn along the way, but now I just… I don’t know, I think that may not be in my cards, but you are in my cards as a constant and supportive presence, and you won’t break my heart when this is done.”

Grantaire was completely gobsmacked. He had never been trusted this much by anyone, especially not with something as big as this. His mouth ran away from him without thinking, causing him to immediately regret his self sabotaging ways.

“Yeah, okay, but have you seen me? Wouldn’t you want your first time to be with someone at least a bit more handsome than me?” 

Grantaire was in his late twenties, curly black hair beginning to thin on top, dark green eyes, about six foot tall and stocky, with a soft middle, pale skin with red undertones that easily glowed through, and a visible dusting of black hair generally meandering up and down his body. He knew he wasn’t much to look at, with stretch marks that he hated and a too-round face, coupled with absolutely no self esteem and very tenuous self worth to boot. 

Enjolras’ eyes lit from within, “Do you really think I’m so shallow, Grantaire? That I would choose a lover based on what they looked like instead of who they are? I chose you, if you’ll have me, because of who you are! I could have slept with any one of dozens of handsome men, but how well would they treat me? How much would they care about me? No thank you! I’ll go for the bear next door any day.”

Grantaire’s cheeks flushed. He deserved that. He nodded quietly and tried a different line of questioning.

“Fair…” Grantaire murmured, “So um, before we can get started on this, um, venture, I just need to ask: Exactly how experienced are you? What have you already done, so that we don’t start somewhere way beyond what you are ready for.”

Enjolras, consumed by embarrassment, flicked his eyes to the table for a minute before returning his gaze to Grantaire’s, “I was… kissed once. I went to DC to be on site when the Supreme Court announced a decision on a workplace discrimination suit that would protect workers based on their sexuality. It was decided in favor of the workers, and the whole crowd was so excited that we were celebrating on the steps and a handsome man just grabbed me and gave me this heart stopping kiss. I was blown away by how nice it was, how I felt so swept up in the moment of history, and how I had absolutely no idea what to do next. That was when I really started to question if I had waited too long to learn. If I had let myself be too naive. Other than that… I mean, nothing really.”

“Only you would get your first kiss on the steps of the Supreme Court. Giving me quite the challenge to keep up with,” Grantaire teased, trying to lessen the nervous energy that filled the air between them. 

That was quite a lot of ground to cover, and he had so many commissions that desperately needed his attention. Could he spare a few hours a week? He thought he might be able to fit them in. Hell, thought? Who was he kidding. Enjolras had asked. He knew he would be doing it even before he had known what it was.

“Enjolras, I’ve never said no to you. I’m not saying it today, I won’t be saying it to you tomorrow, but I want you to understand something. You don’t just learn how to be a lover in one night, you learn it over time. You don’t start with making love, you start so, so much smaller. You start with kissing. You learn your own body and what feels good. You learn to watch for cues from your partner, that’s how you make love. This won’t be a one night stand, and I would not be doing you any favors if I did any differently. Plus, neither of us can be sure exactly how far you want to take this. Neither of us could know what you’ll learn about yourself during this. You might want to stop at any point, which is fine, but just… don’t be disappointed in yourself or in me if this doesn’t take you on a direct line from virgin pure as driven snow to sex god. We have to try things to figure out where you feel comfortable, and how you prefer to perform in the bedroom. Are you learning how to be a top, or a bottom? Both? Are you as dominant in the bedroom as you are in the courthouse? Or might you prefer to take be led once in your life? I am honored to be of assistance to you in this delicious journey, but we have to take it slow and agree to allow the pace to be as slow as it needs to be.”

Enjolras let it all sink in. This was going to be more extensive than he had imagined, but he felt much more assured by how seriously Grantaire was taking him. He had been right. He would make it through this ordeal with his dignity in tact and his virginity in tatters. 

“I feel quite silly asking this right now Grantaire, but um, where do we start?”

Grantaire smiled a Cheshire cat smile, I’m so glad I took the time to straighten out my room, “We start in the bedroom with a little kissing 101, then we meet up again maybe a week from Sunday and get to some serious tutoring,” he stood up and held a hand out to Enjolras, who lightly grasped it to accept the invitation into Grantaire’s bedroom, nervously treading into the unknown.

***

Grantaire’s room was tidy. A queen sized bed with forest green sheets and comforter, a bedside table, a closet with mirrored doors, a satisfyingly full bookshelf, a door open to a small bathroom and a washer/dryer setup. Enjolras had never been into Grantaire’s bedroom before, and he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of clutter. Grantaire was refreshingly domestic, and Enjolras felt warmed by this secret knowledge. Grantaire pulled him gently over to the bed and sat down on the edge, patting the bed next to him for Enjolras to join him. They sank down together, awkward in the practically tangible silence, as Grantaire reached up with his free hand to pull off Enjolras’ cap and toss is behind them casually, sinking his fingers into the blond’s hair and sliding them through the silky curls. His hand slid down to Enjolras’ neck and lightly pulled him in closer.

“Do you permit it?” Grantaire quietly breathed the question, watching hungrily until Enjolras nodded once and he pulled him in for a kiss. Heart pounding, he started with a chaste kiss. This had been Grantaire’s dream for the last ten years. The man of his dreams, in his arms, in his bedroom? He must have died and gone to heaven. There could be no other way. 

He ventured in for another kiss, a little harder and with his lips lightly parting. He slid his tongue out and lightly tasted Enjolras’ lips, electricity surging through him from his lips straight to his groin. Enjolras parted his lips slightly and Grantaire took that as in invitation to experimentally slip his tongue inside while his hand slid from Enjolras’ neck down his back and sides. As their kissing intensified, Enjolras started to get into it, feeling confident enough to kiss back, exploring Grantaire’s mouth with his own and relaxing into it. He was safe here, he could allow himself to relax and have fun. He felt Grantaire’s questing hands working the buttons at his wrists, then his throat. Is he… undressing me? Enjolras thought in confusion, I thought we were just kissing! He felt Grantaire loosen the collar of his shirt and slide his kisses down the the tender skin of his neck. His heart caught in his throat and a small moan escaped Enjolras’ lips as Grantaire sucked and nipped at his neck. Was kissing something that felt… good? 

Grantaire lavished attention on Enjolras’ neck when he pulled back to see his masterpiece-- Enjolras, lips red and kiss bitten, short of breath, gorgeous hair all askew, shirt undone far enough to give him a good view of the red marks that were blossoming on his tender neck, blue eyes dilated with desire-- perfection. He grasped the front of the crisp white business shirt and stared longingly into Enjolras’ eyes, “Do you permit it?” Enjolras nervously nodded. Grantaire dove back in to kiss his luscious lips again, fingers deftly working their way down the buttons until his shirt hung loosely open, untucked and barely covering his thin frame. Grantaire gently eased it off as his kisses slowly drove Enjolras mad. 

Enjolras felt his heart pounding, his lips tingling, his throat screaming for more attention from Grantaire’s skilled lips, and he was nervous what might happen now that he was topless in his friend’s bed. His curiosity was quickly answered as Grantaire’s questing mouth worked its way from lips to neck to chest. He had always thought that nipples were pointless on men, but boy did he learn how wrong he was. Grantaire’s lips found first one nipple, then the other, with sucking kisses, quick nips and playful flicks of his tongue, he slowly drove Enjolras crazy. Enjolras inadvertently let out another small moan, causing Grantaire to momentarily pause to soak in the delicious sounds before her redoubled his efforts. 

He then pushed Enjolras back on the bed and explored the rest of his exposed torso with his mouth, drawing out gasps and moans as he sucked at the tender skin just above the waistband of his pants, enjoying the exquisite sight of a growing bulge beneath his jeans. Grantaire smiled to himself as he kissed Enjolras with the intention of driving him crazy and taking him apart so thoroughly that he would come back next Sunday. He slid back up, planted one lingering kiss on Enjolras’ lips, teasing him with his tongue and taking a small nibble of his lower lip before forcing himself to stand up, looking down at his dumbstruck friend, laying in a seemingly boneless pool on the bed, lightly dusted with tiny hickeys, looking just debauched enough that Grantaire would be able to live on that exquisite image for the rest of his life. 

“And that, my gorgeous friend, is kissing. Did you… enjoy yourself?” Grantaire smirked in the husky voice that arousal always brought out in him.

Enjolras sat up dazedly, “Grantaire… I… I had no idea.” He licked his lips dreamily, “I could do that all night…” His eyes took on the faraway look of someone whose fantasies will be updated post haste. 

Grantaire chuckled to himself, “Oh, me too, Apollo, especially with you, but we’ll have to save that enthusiasm for next week-- if you can find time next Sunday to grace me with your presence for another lesson in love. I have work to do, and if I remember correctly, you need to be heading home to bed. It was a big night for you. Probably good to stop there.” Enjolras nodded dreamily and slid his shirt back on, doing up the buttons on the front. Grantaire lightly grabbed first one wrist, then the other, to do up the buttons there, lightly kissing each hand as he let it go. On with his hat and Enjolras was rising and heading towards the door. When his coat and shoes were on he looked up at Grantaire and gave him a parting kiss, turning to leave.

“Um, thanks so much for the night Grantaire. It wasn’t anything like I had imagined. I’ll be back next Sunday then? Goodnight,” and he quietly strode outside. What had Grantaire gotten himself into? He looked back at his commissions, then to the door, back to the commissions, and threw the bolt on the door. There was no time to dream about nine days from now, only time to use this frustrated sexual tension to get work done, and the gorgeous sights he saw in his bedroom tonight to up the ante on his couple of religious commissions to show St. Teresa what ecstasy really looked like.

***


	2. Worship in the Bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Enjolras gets touched by a man.

Enjolras tossed his keys and wallet down onto his bedside table, collapsing onto his bed face down, face still burning in embarrassment. Everything had gone well-- better than he had even imagined, and his weeks and months ahead would be filled with sporadic bouts of kissing and who knows what else? He replayed the night’s events and conversations in his head and ground his burning face into his pillow. He was so embarrassed by such a frank discussion of his sexuality with the most experienced man he knew, but he felt comforted by how little his inexperience seemed to matter to Grantaire. Plus he found out that his friends had come to a consensus that he was an asexual virgin-- so that was humiliating. As far as he knew, he had never engaged in gossip about his friends’ sex lives… which was probably a mark against him in their eyes. He rolled over and made himself stand-- forcing himself to prepare for sleep, praying that he would be able to quiet his racing mind for long enough to get a decent eight hours.

***

Grantaire had gone past his usual golden hours of midnight inspiration and had worked until the sun shone through his studio windows, causing his frenzy of work from the night before to light up almost from within. He had poured his night into a romantic commission that he was closest to finishing, practically brimming with sexual energy. The whole night he kept replaying his memory of a shockingly bashful and pink cheeked Enjolras glancing shyly up and asking, “Would you teach me how to make love?” His jeans felt so tight that he knew he had to go relieve himself of this pressure before he lost his mind, but he couldn’t pull himself away from the painting, pouring his sensuality and fantasies for the months ahead into the longing gazes and flushed cheeks of his two subjects. When the sun rose and illuminated his work from the long, dark night, he was taken aback. It was… beautiful. One more day of work and he should be done, and now that he had just over a week ahead of him until he saw Enjolras again. He looked forward to the next painting he was able to bring to life with the tension that coiled in his belly. He cleaned his supplies dreamily and went to bed, forgetting to drink his nightcap and being met with vivid dreams that he now might actually have the opportunity to realize in the waking world.

* * *

The buzz in his pocket alerted Grantaire that the eggplant parmesan was ready. The chocolate mousse was chilling in the fridge. The white zinfandel was in ice on the table, and Grantaire was a mess. The last week had taken him apart at the seams, with a flurry of passionate work on religious and romantic pieces and not nearly enough sleep. His flat was the kind of clean that comes with nerves, his scant clothing had been gone through over and over again only to find that all of his outfits pretty much looked the same-- a little bit old, dark denim and dark green accessories. He had agonized over the menu, spending a week writing and then erasing texts to Enjolras, and now this was it-- Sunday. Dinner time. He plated the steaming dish with a nice, crisp salad and set the table. He could imagine Enjolras nervously pacing outside, approaching the door and then losing nerve. He pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text to get the evening started:

Grantaire: Dinner is on the table, come in when you’re ready.

He chuckled when the door opened moments later, somebody must be eager he thought, smiling to himself. He turned to see Enjolras enter, looking just as exquisite as always-- pale skin, flushed cheeks, immaculately dressed to show off his slim athletic figure, accented by his signature red leather jacket. He flashed Enjolras a smile, “Good evening, Apollo. I hope you’re hungry,” as he gestured to the table. Enjolras removed his boots by the door, stripped off his coat and slipped it into the closet. 

“Good evening, Grantaire. I’m famished. What are we having?” Enjolras replied a bit stiffly.

“Eggplant parmesan, fresh from the oven,” he replied, “Come have a seat before it gets cold.”

As he poured the wine, Enjolras got seated and they got down to eating. 

“You know that you didn’t have to make dinner for me,” he replied as he cut into the cheesy, thick eggplant slices on his plate. “I am flattered that you took so much time out of your day to do this for me, but don’t feel obligated to.”

“Cooking for you is an honor,” Grantaire replied, spearing some crunchy salad on his fork, “It is the least I can do.” With this, he slid a folded sheet of white paper across the table top towards Enjolras.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking it up to examine it.

“I went to Planned Parenthood last week to get a sexual health test. Those are my results. I scrupulously use protection, but it is important when you take a new lover to do that for them. I don’t need it from you, obviously, because of your lifestyle up until the point, but I wanted to put you at rest before anything happens. I don’t need you losing sleep on my account.”

Enjolras read through the paper, blushing, “I already am losing sleep on your account, if its all the same to you, but not over this. Not yet at least. I uh, I did want this, but, I, um, I didn’t know how to ask you for it. I feel like I’m burdening you with my… situation. I appreciate how much thought you are putting into my, uh… education.” 

Grantaire’s eyebrows raised, “No burden at all, far from it. The pleasure is all mine, though I’m hoping you will get some along the way too. If you want something from me, Angel, just ask.” He’s been thinking about this, meaning he has been thinking about *not* using condoms with me? He’s been… dreaming of me? Me?? Eek!

“Grantaire-- why do you call me all of those things? Apollo? Angel? Why do you insist on pet names for me?”

“I call you Apollo because he was beautiful, and so are you. He was a muse, and so are you. His curls and statuesque bone structure made him quite the sight to behold… and so are you. I call you angel because you are ethereal and sent from the heavens,” Grantaire held Enjolras’ stare across the table, who looked away, trying to hide a blush that had gone all the way to his ears. Grantaire smiled, “But truly, I could call you anything you wanted.”

“Call me what you will out here, Grantaire, but in there,” he gestured to Grantaire’s bedroom, “Please say my name. I love the way it sounds in your mouth.” Gulp! Grantaire felt blood rushing to his groin, and it was his turn to blush. 

“As you wish,” he purred. 

Grantaire stood up and strode to the fridge. He pulled out two dishes of chocolate mousse and sat placed one in front of Enjolras, whose eyes sparkled at the sudden surprise. 

“You spoil me,” he cooed, picking up his spoon and digging in. 

“Not yet,” Grantaire replied, “But soon.”

Enjolras paused, looking up to see Grantaire watching him eat, then he slowly, deliberately took a spoonful and slipped it between his soft pink lips, holding eye contact the whole time while slowly pulling the clean spoon back out and with a smile that was mostly in his eyes, “I can’t wait.” 

***  
Dinner finished and dishes in the sink, they retired to the bedroom and fell onto the bed, kissing hotly. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” Enjolras growled into his ear, “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“Mmm… yeah?” Grantaire nibbled on his ear, causing Enjolras to moan lightly. “What sort of things have you been thinking about doing with me?”

“Kissing you.” Enjolras replied simply.

“Wish granted,” Grantaire kissed and nipped down Enjolras’ neck, taking his shirt buttons in hand and pausing to look him in the eyes. Enjolras nodded and he went back to plying his neck with the biting kisses that were driving Enjolras to distraction while unbuttoning his shirt. He kissed his way down Enjolras’ thin figure while pulling his collared shirt off, taking a moment to sit back and admire him before diving back in to kiss his tender lips. Grantaire ran his broad hands over Enjolras’ pecs, teasing his nipples, as Enjolras’ breath hitched. His hands slid further down and he paused at Enjolras’ fly, pulling away to look into his eyes, “Do you permit it?”

“Y-yes,” Enjolras breathed, with more desperate pleading in his voice than either of them were prepared for. Grantaire kissed him again, lightly biting his lower lip and drawing a small moan from Enjolras while his hands worked the button and zipper. 

“Lift your hips,” Grantaire gently plied him, and just like that his black jeans were suddenly around his knees and Grantaire was kneeling to pull them all the way off, looking back up at the vision on his bed. Lithe and lightly muscled, blond curls mussed, blue eyes aflame, pink lips swollen with kissing, pale, trembling, and dressed only in tight black boxer briefs. His arousal now apparent and mouthwateringly thick, Grantaire ran his hands up Enjolras’ thighs as he slid back on the bed, lifting him by the hips and turning his body so that he now lay fully on the bed. He straddled his hips and kissed him again, his hands ran back down Enjolras’ body, trailing fingertips seductively until he stopped mere millimeters from Enjolras’ erection. He stopped, pulling back, and looked into the bright blue eyes of the vision in his bed, “Do you permit it?”

Enjolras nodded, and that was enough for him to continue running his fingers down his body, taking his lips in his mouth again as his fingers traced a light trail down Enjolras’ cock. Enjolras’ hips hitched and he gasped into Grantaire’s mouth. Grantaire felt a smile play across his own lips, this is the first time he has ever been touched by a man, he thought, it’ll be a night to remember. 

Grantaire had dreamed of getting his hands on Enjolras’ body for a solid decade, and though he made do with other men and the power of his own imagination, tonight he would actually get to handle the real deal. His hands shook slightly as he played up and down the other man’s thick member, feeling him writhe below him. His hands came to the top of Enjolras’ boxers, fingers tracing just below the edge and he stopped pulling back again. Before he could speak, the trembling voice of Enjolras came out, deep with arousal, “Yes, yes Grantaire, I permit it, please--” and he lifted his hips into Grantaire’s own, giving Grantaire the space he needed to roll off of the top of him and pull the thin material down his body, leaving them at the end of the bed. Enjolras’ cock, now free from its trappings, sprang free and caused Grantaire’s breath to hitch in his throat. It was even better than he could have imagined-- hard, pink, circumcised, which was admittedly odd for an ex-Catholic, with a dark red head and a small drop of precum just begging to be licked clean. Just like Enjolras, it was a bit short, but shockingly straight and gifted with a surprising girth. Grantaire moaned at the sight, snaking his way back up Enjolras’ body and twining one hand into his hair as he pulled him in for another kiss, straddling his body again.

Enjolras pulled back slightly, “Grantaire, please, take off your top. Let me feel your skin against mine,” he breathily shook against the larger man’s body. Grantaire leaned back, grinding his hips against Enjolras’ naked body, and pulled his top over his head, exposing his thick and lightly haired torso, striped with the stretch marks that he hated so much. He wouldn’t argue, if Enjolras was completely nude beneath him, he couldn’t use the pretense of being shy now. He dropped his top beside the bed and leaned back in to ravish the other man’s neck, feeling Enjolras’ smooth skin against his own. It. Felt. Fantastic. 

His left hand trailed down the slender man’s body and gently grasped his thick member in his hand, feeling Enjolras gasp beneath him as he fit him lightly into his own hand, ghosting up the length and swirling his fingers over the head, feeling the slickness beneath his thumb. He teasingly explored him, lightly and reverently for a few moments, as Enjolras writhed beneath him.

“Grantaire, please, harder,” he panted, his voice going straight from his ears into his cock. Fuck was all Grantaire could think, knowing what phrase would be keeping him awake at night this week.

“Patience, sweet one,” Grantaire playfully pulled away from his body entirely, leaning forward further to reach into the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a small black and silver bottle of lube. He clicked the top open and poured a small pool into his left hand, closing his fingers to spread it around. Settling himself back over the blond’s body, he reached down to grasp his cock again. This time ran his hand from tip to base, swirling his fingers and palm to get the slightly cool liquid to spread everywhere. He started a firm and fairly slow rhythm, exploring with his fingers. He twisted his hand slightly on each stroke up, tightening over the head while swirling his thumb over the tip on each down stroke. Enjolras made small, desperate noises and hitched his hips up into the sensation, causing Grantaire to stop and push his hips back down with his free hand, he took the time to pull back and watch Enjolras’ face as he went back to work on driving this gorgeous man over the edge. Precum was now mixed thoroughly with the lube and the slippery delight beneath his fingers was getting more so by the moment. He knew it wasn’t long now, and he didn’t want to miss a single second. 

Enjolras threw his head back, gasping for breath, a desperate blush dusting his porcelain skin, “Grantaire,” he begged, “Please Grantaire, say my name.” 

Grantaire moaned, Enjolras’ voice so desperate that his painfully hard cock throbbed in his pants, “Enjolras, look at me,” Grantaire growled, Enjolras trembled lifting his face, blue eyes opening, “Now cum for me Enjolras.”

The blond gasped, hitching his hips once, twice, while the larger man worked him mercilessly, then he threw his head back involuntarily, crying out “Grantaire!” and shot his cum all over his stomach. Grantaire worked him through the orgasm, the warm sticky cum pooling on his panting stomach, throwing his embarrassed arm over his face. Grantaire roughly pulled his arm away and kissed him desperately, pressing their torsos together tightly, not minding the mess. Enjolras fought to get air into his lungs, hugging Grantaire to his chest, burying one of his hands into the dark curls of the man above him, hearts thumping against each other as he basked in the afterglow. 

When his breathing slowed, Grantaire rolled off of him and reached for a box of tissues, wiping the pools of cum off and disposing of the tissue in a small bin. He got up, went to the bathroom, returning with a warm wet washcloth and cleaning them both off of all lube and cum and tenderly kissing the panting virgin beneath him.

“That felt amazing,” Enjolras beamed.

“It looked amazing,” Grantaire grinned slowly, turning on his side and pulling the smaller man against him, trailing his fingers through the blond man’s curls, down the back of his neck and lightly over his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you take your pants off?” the blond asked quietly.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured to deal with me. This whole thing is about you, and I am a bit-- intimidating in that area,” Grantaire traced small circles on his shoulders.

“O-oh,” Enjolras stammered, “Am I, um... How…intimidating, am I?” 

“You’re perfect. Beautiful. I am longer and a bit curved, you’re thicker and straighter, and the only thing that intimidates me about you is how much you might need to stretch me out if you ever want to fit that thing inside of me,” he teasingly grinned, leaning forward to kiss the blond man playfully on his nose, his chin, his lips. Enjolras giggled-- he actually giggled-- as he was being kissed, then draped his arm over Grantaire’s back and pulled him in for a deep kiss. 

“When do I get to see you again?” Enjolras gazed into Grantaire’s eyes, holding him tightly in his wiry arms.

“How does next Sunday sound?” Grantaire purred, pecking him on the cheek.

“It sounds like an eternity away,” Enjolras whined.

Grantaire chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll manage to keep yourself busy. You managed it this week.”

“Barely. You drove me crazy in my waking and sleeping hours.”

“Mmm… tell me about that.”

“I kept thinking about your lips on my mouth and my neck, my ears and my chest, down my hips, on my side…” Enjolras seductively gazed into Grantaire’s eyes. 

Grantaire’s smile widened, “I thought about my lips on your body too, but maybe just a little lower down.” He didn’t think it was possible for Enjolras to get any redder, yet all the same…

“Is that something I can look forward to soon?” he teased.

“Bet on it,” Grantaire grasped his hair and pulled him in for one more deep kiss.

***


	3. Grantaire's Dark History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another lesson in the bedroom, Enjolras uncovers Grantaire's difficult history and how it made him into the man he is today.

Enjolras woke with a gasp, feeling a warm warm liquid pool in his belly button. Seriously?? He thought, I’m a full grown adult, I am FAR too old for wet dreams! As he reached over for a tissue, hoping it hadn’t gotten on his freshly laundered sheets, and finding himself oddly thankful to be sleeping alone. He had always slept alone, but for the first time he really felt it. He looked at the clock: 6:30 AM. Across town, in a quiet art studio, the man whose hands had taken him to pieces this past weekend was painting in the dawn light, ending his day just as Enjolras started his. He rolled from his warm bed, leaving behind dreams of those lips, those hands, those green eyes, that cocky smile, that deep voice that came out only in the bedroom. 

***

Grantaire had been tortured for days, “Grantaire, please, harder…” “Please Grantaire, say my name,” and the exquisite sound of his own name being cried out in the throes of passion played on loop in his head. The vision of his perfect Apollo, writhing beneath him, calling out his name, losing control while bucking beneath him. He painted feverishly, the avenging angel Uriel, brandishing his flaming sword in front of the gates of Eden, blue eyes burning with the fiery passion that filled Enjolras’ face during rallies, intense and protective. His alabaster skin, defined pecs, lightly muscled biceps hefting the weight of the sword, illuminated the soft light of the flame as he guarded a lush paradise, glimpsed through the gate he stood before. If you looked closely, you could see a large, black snake twined around a verdant apple tree, and a vivacious, nude dark skinned woman reaching up for one, perfect red apple. Yes he knew temptation, alright, and he was ready to taste that forbidden apple, consequences be damned.

***

“Are you feeling alright, Enjolras?” Combeferre asked concernedly. 

Enjolras snapped back to the present, “Um, yes! Sorry! My mind is just a bit full at the moment, so much going on…” 

“Alriiiiight,” Combeferre didn’t trust that answer, but he wasn’t going to push it. “So uh, you were saying?”

“Oh yes! Sorry, right. The mobile doctors will be up and running starting in January. I’ve been able to secure half a dozen dentist offices willing to participate in a once monthly lottery system to treat 5 people each, so that’s a place to build up from. I have gotten promised participation from two major local grocery stores and four smaller coffee houses that they would donate produce and pre-made food on the night it expires. We just need transportation to the food bank and volunteers to extend our efforts to new locations.” 

“You’re doing great work Enjolras, and I’ll lean on some of the schools getting access to the mobile doctors to see if their administration would ask their staff to contact local stores and restaurants from a list to spread our efforts. I’ll also see if the VA has any volunteers to collect the food, since so many veterans will benefit from some extra food on the table. ...I was thinking, have you made any plans for housing the unhomed? Winter is almost here, so it is too soon to pull off anything but emergency services, but something more permanent we can build.”

“Speaking of the VA, I had been thinking about contacting the Wounded Warriors to see if they wanted to team up to build tiny homes for homeless veterans. I would, of course, have to approach the city before anything could be announced, but that’s a start.”

Wednesday lunches were always like this. Combeferre, a practicing pediatrician, always made time to meet up with him to discuss the nonprofit and aid wherever he was able. He kept Enjolras honed in on exactly which steps to take next and helped him to focus his efforts where they were most needed. The nonprofit was small but scrappy, employing recent college graduates and a few of their friends from their own college days whose skills were invaluable, but who hadn’t done much on their own by the point that Enjolras needed them. Truth being told, he always felt like he should be paying Combeferre too, but he refused him every time. As far as Combeferre was concerned, these meals were the only excuse he had to actually spend any time with his best friend, and he loved to see how much better their city was becoming as a result. 

“That should just about wrap it up, then,” Combeferre wanted to get to the bottom of what had been distracting Enjolras over the last two weeks. He had never seen him like this. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he was infatuated with someone, but that couldn’t be it. Enjolras? In love? It had to be something else. “So, beyond work, what’s been up with you? Anything new?”

“Can I ask you something?” Enjolras looked a bit uneasy.

“Anything.”

“Am I a... bad friend?”

“What?? No! Of course not! You’re my best friend! What ever put that thought into your head?” Combeferre frowned, this didn’t seem right… This didn’t sound like Enjolras.

“Its just… I had dinner with Enjolras the other night, and it turns out that he had an exhibition that was open here for an entire month and I… never knew. A good friend would have known, right? A good friend would have shown up in support.”

“You mean the religious one? We all know how you feel about religion, an opiate for the people and all that, so nobody thought you’d be all that interested. I went, hell we all went, but uh… you wouldn’t have liked it, so we didn’t invite you.” Oh he had gone alright, and only if you had known the years of devoted desire that Grantaire had poured into Enjolras would you see the real worship in that gallery-- and it wasn’t to anything you’d find in the Bible. 

Enjolras felt the statement sting like it had physically struck him, “What does it matter that I wouldn’t have liked the subject matter? Grantaire has always been there for every event I’ve done, and I’ve never even seen his paintings. To that matter, religion doesn’t mean a damn to Grantaire either.”

Combeferre was taken aback-- he had never seen Enjolras get this worked up over Grantaire in a positive way before. He had always figured that Grantaire was a nuisance to Enjolras, a warm body with some useful skills, not a full on friend. Maybe, just maybe, in the years since they have met, Grantaire’s attempts to get on Enjolras’ good side were working. Huh. He held his hands up, “I apologize. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’ll be sure to invite you out in support of all of our friends’ endeavors in the future.” This seemed to mollify Enjolras, while it set Combeferre’s mind whirring. He had to be wrong, but were Enjolras and Grantaire… getting along now?

***  
Eponine: I’m worried, R.  
Grantaire: About?  
Eponine: You.  
Grantaire: ??? Why?  
Eponine: Let’s see-- you dropped off the face of the Earth, you don’t talk to me anymore, and I keep being afraid that you’ll be found dead in a ditch somewhere.  
Grantaire: Ep, I’m fine. I just have a lot of commissions ahead of me. I’ve been keeping my recluse hours, but I’ll send you the last two I’ve finished and you can tell me what you think.  
Grantaire: Gazing.jpg  
Grantaire: Uriel.jpg  
Eponine: Oh Grantaire! They’re gorgeous!   
Grantaire: Thanks, it’s been a lot…  
Eponine: We have to celebrate! I’m bringing over Chinese takeout tonight.   
Grantaire: Ep, I’m really busy…  
Eponine: I don’t care. You need to see people or you’ll become a crazy person and my best friend will be a ghost. I don’t need that kind of energy in my life.   
Eponine: I’ll come over, check out what you’re working on, and tell you allll about this person I’ve met…  
Grantaire: !!!  
Grantaire: Okay, you’ve got me. I’m in. What time?  
Eponine: I get off of work at 5:45, so uh, however long it takes me to get from there, through China Express, and to your place. Say, 6:30? Have a cold Tsingtao waiting for me, will you?  
Grantaire: Understood <3

***

Eponine and Grantaire went way back, and they told each other everything. They were the sort of best friends who always found something to celebrate together, even in the darkest times, and the stuff they had been through together? You could write a book. They had started living together at 15, in a dingy room that they rented from a miserly old man as they attempted to become emancipated and support themselves, after they had each helped one another through three years of on again, off again homelessness. They had slept in the same bed, practically drowned each other in their tears, held hair back over the toilet, fought for one another, danced through many long nights, and held about a million of each other’s secrets. He was dying to tell someone about the time he had been spending with Enjolras, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even tell his best friend in the whole world! Not yet, at least. It was still too fresh, too budding, too new. He didn’t want to jinx it, but the secret burned him like an ember being hidden in the hand. 

He heard his key turn as she let herself in, holding a tied plastic bag of Chinese takeaway. She toed her shoes off and practically bounded over to the table, setting the bag down and throwing her arms around Grantaire, “R! I’ve missed you so much!”

Grantaire laughed, “It’s only been three weeks, Eponine!” Hugging her tightly to himself and while rocking back and forth.

Eponine goggled at him, “Only! It’s ONLY been three weeks? Oh my God, Grantaire! It has been a lifetime!” She released him and quickly swished over to his eleven remaining easels, admiring the pencilled in layouts for the variety of different subjects. “Impressive! Maybe someday that portrait you did of us will be worth something,” she grinned, leaning over to see him at the table, setting out the boxes of food and dishing them onto plates.

“Oh ha ha!” he responded, “Like anyone would want our ugly mugs hanging on their walls.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, completing her circuit of the canvasses and making her way back to the table. Eponine was a nimble, graceful woman, both slim and dark. Dark eyes, dark skin, dark hair, dark makeup. Her life had been hard, at times much harder than Grantaire’s, but by her hard work alone she had gotten stability for herself and was able to fill out her gaunt frame a bit, making her less cocaine chic in appearance, and more svelte. She had spent a fortune on fixing her sparkling white smile and easing the harried appearance of premature aging that had been her constant companion in their first few years living together. She looked good, and she deserved to be proud of herself. Hell, Grantaire was so proud of her that he could hardly stand it. She was his constant companion. The Patti Smith to his Robert Mapplethorp.

“So, I’m dying to know-- who is the lucky person who has you all a-twitter?” Grantaire teased.

Eponine picked up her plate and twirled some chow mein onto the fork, “Well…” Thus their night began, giving Grantaire the exact support he needed and helping him feel like he was loved. He was valued. He was home.

***  
His fingers deftly arranged the slices of fresh mozzarella and tomato, sprinkling the tops with shredded basil, coarse ground salt and pepper onto the waiting toasted slices of french bread. Dessert was in the fridge. Dinner was in the oven. Chianti was on the table. WIth each meal, he wanted to show Enjolras how deeply he cared, how skilled he was, how valuable. Eponine would call it romantic in one breath, desperate in the next, so he kept his devotion to the perfect meal with the perfect man to himself.

The doorbell rang and his eyebrows rose in surprise. Wiping his hands on a nearby kitchen towel, he went to answer it, to find a sheepish Enjolras standing on his doorstep, coral roses in hand. He was impressed! He had never, ever known Enjolras to show up early-- he must really be eager to get his evening started early.

“Come in, have a seat, dinner is just coming out,” Grantaire greeted him at the door with a quick hug, feeling the evening cool pour off of him.

“Actually, I was hoping for a chance to take a look at some of your finished work.”

Grantaire was taken aback, Enjolras had never shown interest in his personal work before… “Unfortunately, my dear, sweet Apollo, all of my finished pieces have been sold and delivered. But, you know what, I just uploaded the two newest ones to my website. Here,” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, stopped the alarm that was going to go off in a minute to tell him that the manicotti was done, and handed a loading website over to Enjolras while he went to the oven to tend to dinner. 

“Grantaire-- these are exquisite!” Enjolras’ eyes widened as he scrolled through the gallery, seeing romantic couples, chubby cheeked babies, half nude religious pictures, when individual details of the angels faces called his eyes back for a deeper look. They all looked… familiar. The art was classical, delicate, sensual, and far classier than he had ever imagined Grantaire was capable of. He came specifically to Grantaire’s interpretation of the Ecstasy of St. Teresa and he stopped. He cleared his throat, zooming in closer on the image of the angel, “Grantaire? Is this… me?” Grantaire froze in his tracks, only for a moment, but a telling one. 

“I told you that you were my muse,” Grantaire quietly replied, his back to Enjolras as he filled their plates with pasta and bruschetta. He turned and placed them on the table. “That’s why I didn’t invite you to the gallery, Enjolras. I thought you’d be embarrassed to see so much of yourself throughout the gallery. You are my angel. You are my muse. You are the only thing I truly believe in, Enjolras.” He quietly sat, pouring two glasses of wine, leaving the next move for Enjolras. 

Enjolras quietly handed his phone back and took a seat, “They’re beautiful. I had no idea you saw me that way...” averting his eyes and picking up his bruschetta, privately flattered, but also bothered now by one thought. “Grantaire, am I hurting you? Does taking me into your bed break your heart? Because I never meant to cause you any pain...”

Grantaire needed to do some damage control, now. “No! Don’t even say that Enjolras. You do me an honor that I surely don’t deserve, but you don’t hurt me. Not in the slightest.” A hot silence descended on the table. Grantaire chose to change the subject before Enjolras asked the inevitable question about the L word, and he just couldn’t have that tonight. “I saw you in the paper this morning, Eponine texted me a link” he quickly blurted, even catching himself off guard with how fumbling it sounded.

“Oh! Yes, Combeferre thought it would increase participation in our food program if we gave some publicity to participating partners, so we had the local paper come cover our food program. I was surprised that they chose to run it in the Sunday paper, but it was nice.”

When small talk of projects and pleased art clients was exhausted and the appetizer and main course had been devoured, the panna cotta was brought out, delicate and creamy, topped with mint and raspberries. 

Right on cue, Enjolras’ eyes widened as the custard was placed in front of him, “Grantaire, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were trying to get me into bed with these dishes you keep bringing me,” he smiled playfully.

“Is it working?” Grantaire flirted.

“Better than you could possibly imagine,” Enjolras hummed around a mouthful of the treat. 

***

This time when they entered the bedroom, they crashed through the door blindly, kissing and stumbling towards the bed in a haste. Grantaire worked feverishly at Enjolras’ white collared shirt, untucking it and undoing the buttons blindly, but with the deft fingers of an artist to speed the process along. Enjolras, mad for the feeling of Grantaire’s bare skin against his, took the bottom of his lover’s shirt between his narrow fingers and lifted as high as he could reach, effectively trapping the larger man within the fabric until he kneeled down a bit so finish the removal process. Enjolras took this as an opportunity to kiss as much of Grantaire’s skin as possible, starting with his neck and quickly moving down his body with sloppy kisses and light nibbles. Grantaire didn’t know how to respond to this-- he was supposed to be the one leading the way, but his student in the art of lovemaking taking some initiative was a good sign, wasn’t it? His train of thought was forcefully derailed when he felt the smaller man’s fingers slip beneath the waist of his jeans and move in to undo the button.

“Woah! Enjolras, hold on!” He shot out in a hurry.

Enjolras literally jumped back slightly and held his hands up, “I’m so sorry, Grantaire! I didn’t ask, I’m sorry…” panic edged into his voice and all of his newfound confidence evaporated as he awkwardly stood frozen in place. Shit, shit, shit! What did I do? Both of the men thought simultaneously.

“No! No, its okay, you just startled me. I just, uh… why do you want my pants off?”

Enjolras looked up, pleadingly, into his eyes, “Last Sunday was incredibly sexy, and I have spent all week thinking about how much sexier it would have been if I had been able to feel more of your skin… and maybe get to be intimidated in the same way that other men have been…” His voice faded softly away as he allowed the embarrassment to take him.

“So long as you don’t feel any responsibility for my situation, I’ll gladly take my clothes off for you,” he gently spoke, reaching out to take the slender fingers of his lover and put them back, millimeters from his button, reaching out to pull the smaller man in and draw him into a deep kiss. His hands over Enjolras’, they undid his jeans together, stepping out of them as they finished the approach to the bed. Grantaire scooped Enjolras up and laid him reverentially in the middle of the bed, kissing him slowly and softly as he twisted his body to align just over the top of the blond’s. “Now look who’s overdressed,” he purred into his mouth, sliding back onto his heels and moving his hands down to the other man’s fly. He paused and looked him meaningfully in the eyes, Enjolras nodded and Grantaire smoothly undid his black jeans and slid them off, dropping them off the side of the bed. 

Grantaire lowered his body back down, feeling his skin touch Enjolras’ in tantalizing places, only thin pieces of fabric separating them from touching in an entirely more erotic way. He playfully tangled his fingers in Enjolras’ blond curls and tugged his head lightly to the side, exposing his tender neck for the taking. He took it with relish, feeling himself harden as Enjolras gasped and quietly moaned. He let go of the exquisite curls and began exploring further down. It hadn’t been much time, but he had been learning Enjolras’ body, and he had some favorite reactions to his kisses that he was hoping to replicate. He swiped his tongue over Enjolras’ nipple, lightly pinching the other one in order to elicit a small moan, he kissed further down, nibbling lightly on his soft skin so that he could relish in the gasps and giggles that accompanied his attention. He kissed down to just above his belly button, pausing to look up into Enjolras’ eyes, alight from within with desire, to ask, “Do you permit it?” 

“I do,” Enjolras breathed desperately.

Grantaire leaned back and tugged at the blond’s boxer briefs, freeing the smaller man’s mostly erect penis as he discarded the underclothing in approximately the same direction as the jeans had gone. He leaned back down and saw the smallest drop of precum glistening on the tip. When had that gotten there? Grantaire wondered, looking hungrily at the unfinished glory of Enjolras’ erection, and with no hesitation leaned in and lightly licked the tip clean.

The shocked gasp that met him brought a self satisfied smile to his lips. He loved virgins. I mean, of course they were awkward and didn’t know what to do with themselves, but it was so easy to elicit such a delicious reaction. He lightly kissed the tip and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue tantalizingly around the head before sliding a little deeper. He felt Enjolras become fully erect within his mouth and he hummed his approval, sending such a shock through the unexpecting man’s body that he hitched his hips up and cried out in delighted surprise. Grantaire held his hips down firmly for a moment, as a clear message, and continued to use his mouth to take his lover apart, running his hands up and down Enjolras’ thighs. Enjolras was the perfect length to get full deep throat from Grantaire without hitting his gag reflex, and he took full advantage. Once he pulled off entirely, saliva glistening off of his lips, and breathily demanded, “Enjolras, look at me,” before returning whole heartedly to the task at hand. 

Enjolras complied, gasping and shaking, taking in the delicious sight of Grantaire’s lips around his cock and the glint of his beautiful green eyes. Grantaire knew that Enjolras wouldn’t last much longer, so he pulled back for one second, put his left pointer and middle fingers into his mouth briefly, then got back to bobbing his head and hollowing out his cheeks to the soundtrack of soft moans and the quiet repetition of, “Grantaire, I’m so close, oh God I’m close, oh don’t stop…” 

He slid his fingers beneath the desperate and gasping virgin and between his cheeks, lightly stroking the tight muscle around Enjolras’ hole. He exclaimed and bucked violently, before crying out, “Grantaire, I’m--” and becoming incomprehensible. He came in spurts into Grantaire’s mouth, who hungrily swallowed every last drop and licked the tip clean. He snaked his body back up quickly to hold Enjolras through his desperate attempts to breathe while his heart pounded so hard that he was certain Grantaire could hear it. He kissed Grantaire hard and desperately, tasting himself in the other man’s kisses before resting their foreheads against one anothers. Grantaire cradled the smaller man in his arms, facing him so that he knew he wasn’t alone. He pulled him into his chest until he felt Enjolras’ breathing slow, then he flipped him over and pulled him close for some classic spooning.

“Was it like you thought it’d be?” Grantaire softly breathed into his hair.

“It was so much better than I could have imagined,” Enjolras dreamily proclaimed, yawning. “You really know how to take it out of a guy, Grantaire.”

“I really know how to put it into a guy too, in fairness,” he heard Grantaire smile, snuggled in tight.

“Mmm, so long as that’s a guarantee,” he pulled Grantaire’s arms closer around him, feeling Grantaire’s honestly quite intimidating erection pressing into his back, he blushed. When would he have the chance to actually see it? Would it be rude to ask? A mixture of feeling cared for, curious, and insecure about his own life story, he ventured a question that he had always secretly wondered about his friend, “Grantaire?”

“Yes dear?”

“When did you lose your virginity?” He felt Grantaire stiffen behind him and go stone silent. It suddenly occurred to him that this kind of pillow talk was a potential time bomb, but it was too late. He twisted in Grantaire’s stiff arms so that he could face him, expecting to see some type of fury in his face, finding only resignation and sadness. He looked away from Enjolras. “Look at me, Grantaire. Talk to me.”

“It was a long time ago, let’s leave it at that.”

“No, Grantaire, listen. I need you to understand this. Every time, every new thing I find out about you, I feel like this was an incredibly, insurmountably huge ask that I have made of you. I feel like I am putting you through torture for my own personal pleasure, and I don’t think I can keep coming if I find out that the relationship you have to sex and pleasure is a fraught one at best.”

Grantaire exhaled shakily and replied, a pained expression on his face, “I don’t want you to judge me.”

“Of course I won’t! You haven’t judged me, so why would I do you that disservice? I just want to understand you. I want the intimacy that comes with sex. I want to know how the man whose name I call out in bed got to be so damn mind blowingly amazing.” There was a long pause before Grantaire spoke.

“Twelve,” Grantaire breathed so quietly that Enjolras hardly heard him from so few inches away. He felt his heart begin to pound, twelve??

“And how old was the other guy?” Enjolras asked in mounting horror.

Grantaire closed his eyes, “Forty.”

The news came like a punch to the gut for Enjolras.

“Oh Grantaire, I’m so sorry! How… What did your parents… What did you...” He trailed off, trapped in the horror of his own mind.

“Listen, Enjolras, hold on, please. Just, let me tell my story before you jump to any conclusions. I don’t talk about any of this stuff, it was so many years ago. But I feel like I owe you some intimacy for all of the trust you are putting in me, so um, okay...” He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, “I was twelve. My baby brother needed to get a heart surgery at a clinic in another state, and my family chose to leave me with a close family friend so that they could afford to be nearby for the surgery. They didn’t need another mouth to feed in such a trying time. Look, I get it. I don’t blame them for this part. 

So they left me, and I was an outgoing, artistic, bright kid. This guy, Ken, was single and I figured he was harmless. He wasn’t. Within a week I had gone from a pure as the driven snow virgin, to a kid who had been fucked literally, figuratively, and metaphorically in more ways than I knew how to deal with. I was at his place for two. He was so many things that I wasn’t. He was bigger. He was stronger. He was older. He was in the closet. He took full advantage of my innocent naivete. I told my parents when they returned and they blew up at me, blaming me for the whole issue and saying that I had cost them their dearest friend because I insisted on being openly and flagrantly gay. 

My parents died for me that day. It took me three years to begin the emancipation process and start living my entire life on my terms. In the time in the middle I lost myself in the bottle, I spent more days not sleeping at home than I spent in my own bed, and I leaned hard on Eponine to be the only family I had. She took me to the school counselor. He took me to the police. It was so hard to admit to myself what had happened, and so painful to have to relive over and over again for doctors and police and eventually a judge. 

I did a lot of stupid things in trying to find my self worth again after that, and I slept with more people than I even know. The only reason I am even alive today is that Eponine took me to Planned Parenthood right at the beginning and lectured me until I used a condom every time, with every guy. She said until I loved someone and had proof that they were clean that I wasn’t to go without a condom again, under any circumstances, so long as bodily fluids were involved. So I did. 

I kept my nose clean, kept my grades decent, used my wits to make it day by day, and as soon as I could get out of Washington I did, with Ep and a cheap shitty car and all of the belongings we were able to scrape together, and we never looked back. 

Look Enjolras, I know you think that I am taking it slow with you to be a tease or something, but that isn’t it at all. I am going slowly with you, step by step, because that’s how I wish it had been with me. By giving this to you, I feel like I am redeeming myself through you. I just… I didn’t want you to know this, and I don’t want this to change your opinion of me…” Grantaire quietly finished, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed whatever emotion was trying to escape. 

Enjolras was floored-- Grantaire wasn’t a hedonist-- he was a child abuse survivor self medicating with alcohol and bad decisions. A wash of shame overtook him for all of the times he was rude or dismissive to Grantaire over exactly that. His eyes filled with shame at his own poor actions over the past decade and he threw his arms around his friend, pulling him in tight and holding on. 

“Grantaire?” He ventured quietly, “You didn’t use a condom with me.”

Grantaire felt like this was so out of left field that he tried to replay the conversation in his head, confusedly responding, “Right, but I know you’re clean.”

“That means you love me.” He spoke with such surety that it couldn’t be argued or questioned.

“I guess it does…” Grantaire replied, sighing inwardly, “I guess it does.” 

***

That night Enjolras’ bed felt so cold and lonely that he cried himself to sleep, feeling more lost than he ever had.

That night Grantaire did no painting whatsoever, consequences be damned, and drunkenly found his way to Eponine’s bed, where she held him close as he cried and comforted him until he fell into a fitful sleep. As she was slowly able to piece together the situation, with mounting surprise, she knew what she had to do. Tonight she would comfort her best friend. Tomorrow she would send him home with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to be over for a late dinner. After work, she would set things straight with Enjy. What were best friends for?

***


	4. Heartfelt Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can Enjolras possibly regain Grantaire's trust?

Enjolras, usually the picture of youthful health and enthusiasm, looked like death warmed over come Monday morning. He had slept terribly, knowing that he had hurt the relationship he had been building with a good friend. He shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t have brought love into the equation, and now he felt so incredibly lost that he didn’t know what to do. He passed full responsibility and decision making onto Courfeyrac for the day and went to his office, mindlessly catching up on paperwork and responding to correspondences. He trusted Courf to make good choices, and he sure as hell couldn’t make any himself today. His phone buzzed maybe an hour into his morning:

Combeferre: What happened?  
Enjolras: If I ask you something, I need you to be 100% honest with me.  
Combeferre: Anything.  
Enjolras: Promise?  
Combeferre: Yes.  
Enjolras: Don’t laugh at me. No matter how obvious it was to you.  
Combeferre: Enjolras, what is going on right now? Are you okay??  
Enjolras: Did you know that Grantaire was in love with me?  
Combeferre: Yes.  
Enjolras: For how long???  
Combeferre: Um-- 10 years?  
Enjolras: Why didn’t you say anything to me???  
Combeferre: I mean, everyone knew it Enj. It’s just that you didn’t and since we all assumed you were asexual or at very least aromantic, nobody thought it would do anything improve your already…   
Combeferre: Difficult friendship. He tried to be a good friend, even if he riled you up most of the time. He was always there for you. He never imposed. It didn’t seem to be a problem.  
Enjolras: Ferre, I’m not ace or aro. I’m just… an idiot?  
Combeferre: So… what happened between you and R?  
Enjolras: I put him in a terrible situation and pressed him for information about his past and was an awful friend, and I figured out that he was in love with me, and I confronted him about it, and…  
Enjolras: Combeferre, I think I broke him.  
Combeferre: Wednesday lunch is cancelled. I’m moving it to today. Don’t do anything Enjolras, and don’t freak out. I’ll see you at noon.

***  
By the time 5:00 rolled around, Enjolras was spent. He trudged home the ten blocks between the headquarters and his apartment, throwing his keys and wallet on his bedside table and falling into bed face first. He felt like he had spent a decade blind, not seeing the many ways that he was shown love by a man that he had just hurt in ways he couldn’t fathom. All of the signs were there, so how had he missed them? He wasn’t sure what hurt him more-- the difficult conversation he had forced Grantaire into, the pain it took him to admit his love, or how quickly he had been asked to leave afterwards. He was jolted from his self pitying reverie by jolly and rhythmic knocking on the door. Grantaire?? His heart leapt and he rushed to the door, throwing it open to find… Eponine? His heart, along with his features, sank. She stood there with a box of pizza and a bag of drinks, in her tailored black suit, perfect makeup, and expression of concern. 

“Good evening, Enjolras! Are you hungry? Yes? Great,” and with that she pushed her way in and strode over to the table. She set down the box, went to the cupboard and pulled out two plates, putting slices on each one. She pulled put a beer each and sat down at a kitchen chair, patting the table with one hand. “Come on! Before it gets cold!”

“Eponine--” He ran his fingers through his hair, turning around as he shut the door behind himself, “What are you doing here? Did Grantaire send you?”

She frowned in between bites, took a mouthful of beer to wash it down, and responded, “Decidedly not. He has no idea where I am, but I am his best friend and I think there are some things that you need to hear right now so that you can make informed decisions about your next move.” She always talked like that to absolutely everyone except Grantaire. Enjolras sank down into the other seat and numbly pulled the plate towards himself, picking up the veggie pizza and taking a half hearted bite out of a sense of politeness. His stomach growled and he took another bite. Eponine raised an eyebrow, “Couldn’t eat today?”

He shook his head, “I really messed up, Eponine. I didn’t know I was doing it until it was done, and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Eponine-- what exactly did I do wrong? Did I ask the wrong question? Did I say the wrong things? Did I not respond in the right way?? I just… I don’t know! One minute it was fun and flirtatious and intimate, the next minute he was asking me to leave, and I just know that it was all my fault…”

“Enjolras, what do you think he is upset about?”

“I think he is upset because he didn’t want me to know how hard of a life he has lived. I think he doesn’t want to be pitied or looked at as a victim, which I am trying really hard not to. I think he wants me to go on assuming that he is just a hyper sexual man with loads of partners because he is a hedonistic sex god.”

“Right, sure, now move beyond any of that. It isn’t just that he wants you to see him in a different light than you currently do, it is because of your main takeaway.”

Enjolras stared at her blankly, “Um, that he developed unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with a really bad situation?”

“No, honey, his feelings for you. He has tried to show you since he met you ten years ago that he cares for you, but he never actually said it because he never figured he had a chance, so he kept it to himself. And there you go, putting him in a vulnerable position, making it clear that if he isn’t candid with you that you won’t continue whatever arrangement you have with him, and then somehow finally just… figuring it out. You exposed his deepest secret and his heart’s one true desire in a matter of minutes, and now he’s certain that he’s lost you.”

“What do I do Eponine? How do I fix this?” Panic edged into his voice.

“First you need to figure out how you feel about him, then you need to show up at his place with some takeaway and tell him, to his face, in no uncertain terms. Don’t make this about his past, make this about your future together-- whatever that might be. Do you still want to be friends? Is there a way for you to do whatever it is that you are doing with one another? Do you want a relationship? Whatever it is, you can’t wait. Spend tonight thinking this over, spend tomorrow planning what you’ll say to him, and show up at his place after work. Don’t call ahead. Don’t text. He is suffering right now, and his fear of how this conversation might go will cause him to self sabotage. Don’t let him do that. He deserves to be happy, and if you see yourself as a part of that happiness, then let him know that.” 

Enjolras had teared up listening to her talk, “I can see why you are his best friend. You really love him.”

“He is a really great man, Enjolras. I hope you know that.”

***

Grantaire indulged himself in self pity, doubt, and regrets. He knew that he needed to work on a painting to distract himself, and he felt himself drawn to a composition of Mary Magdalene crying at the base of the cross. Her grief at seeing the one person she believed in ripped away from her was all too real for him right now. They shared their tears, their sense of loss, and he poured himself into it from his return on Monday afternoon through the early morning on Tuesday, and it had begun to be a heartbreaking piece of loss and loneliness. He had given himself six hours of unconsciousness, aided by a stiff drink before bed, blessedly dreamless. No texts from Enjolras. No calls. Radio silence. Feeling the sharp sting upon waking, he poured Kahlua into his coffee, made some toast, and went back to his work. His pocket buzzed and he pulled out his phone with shaking hands:

Eponine: R. What are you doing?  
Grantaire: Painting.  
Eponine: Do you trust me?  
Grantaire: 100%  
Eponine: Stop what you are doing, go clean yourself up. You’ll feel better. Whole shebang-- shave, shower, teeth, all of it. Change your clothes.  
Eponine: I know you, R. You can’t lie to me. You’ll feel better.  
Grantaire: K, give me a minute  
Eponine: No, R! Now!  
Grantaire: Geez! Fine!  
Eponine: And clean up your apartment when you’re done! Make your place presentable, even if you only do the basics. Take out the trash. Put the dishes into the dishwasher. Pick your clothes up off of the bedroom floor. It’ll help you clear your mind.  
Eponine: Send me before and after pictures.  
Eponine: Love you.

***

Enjolras’ nerves kept him distractedly flitting from project to project, driving his employees crazy as he tried to help perfectly self sufficient teams. After he had been gently shooed away from every single project, he got down to the task of obsessively Googling Grantaire St. Martin on his phone and reading each article and gallery review he was in. He spent time on his website, browsing the paintings, then chose to torture himself further by finding his public Instagram. At half past three, Courfeyrac convinced him that they didn’t need any more of him for the day, and that he needed to go home and recover from whatever illness had clearly felled him. 

Enjolras was a man of action. He had always made and executed bold plans with hopes of a better future, consequences be damned, and he needed to remind himself of that. Now was the time to grab the bull by the horns! Now was the time to march right to Grantaire’s front door! … Or, you know what? Maybe later… he headed towards home. His phone buzzed:

Combeferre: So Courf gave you walking papers for the day?  
Enjolras: Yep, I’m on my way home.  
Combeferre: Why the fuck are you doing that??   
Enjolras: So that I can wallow in self pity?  
Combeferre: That doesn’t sound like the Enjolras I know! The Enjolras I know would march to Grantaire’s place and make a passionate speech about overcoming differences in order to unite under a shared flag or some shit.  
Enjolras: Haha.  
Combeferre: I’m not joking! Go!  
Enjolras: … You know what, yes. You’re right.  
Combeferre: That’s my boy! Text me when you’re done.  
Combeferre: Go get ‘im, tiger! 

Enjolras confidently turned and started walking in the other direction. So long as he kept his nerve up for 15 or so blocks, he could do this. It was time to bite the bullet and face Grantaire, come what may.

***

Enjolras knocked firmly on Grantaire’s door, waiting impatiently as he heard movement from beyond and footsteps approaching and a muffled, “Just a minute.” His nerves were rising when the door finally opened, revealing a shocked Grantaire, frozen in place as soon as he laid eyes on his visitor. 

“Can I come in?” Enjolras asked with as much false calm as he could muster up.

“I’m kind of busy right now, Enjolras…” Grantaire said evasively, holding up a paintbrush, “I’m working.”

“It can wait.” 

Grantaire looked unsure, offended, and resigned all at once, rocking back and forth for a moment, unsure of whether or not to shut the door. “Okay, whatever,” he walked back inside, leaving the door open behind him.

Enjolras stepped hesitantly inside, peering around to see any clues to how Grantaire had taken Sunday night. Surprisingly, everything was fairly neat, Grantaire himself was cleanly shaved, his hair still drying from a recent shower. Huh. Enjolras’ place didn’t look as good even today as it had two days ago…

Grantaire set down his paintbrush, turned to Enjolras who was just setting his shoes by the door and crossed his arms. “So? Is there something you want to say to me?”

“There are so many things I want to say to you, Grantaire. But first off, I want to say thank you. Thank you for being a steadfast friend for the past decade, even when I was unkind to you. Thank you for showing me how much you loved me, every day, without expectation, for years. I was too blind to see it, but now that I do I am floored that it took me so long. All of the years that we argued and you picked apart everything I said and every plan I made were you showing me how to be better, stronger, more prepared. Every time you showed up to a protest that you didn’t believe in, or made art pieces for some movement I was taking part in that you didn’t care one iota about, or went to Les Amis meetings, it wasn’t because you believed in any of it. It was because you believed in me. Thank you for loving me so ardently and for so long.”

“Wait, so that’s it? Thanks for ten years! Nice to know you??” Grantaire was getting visibly upset at this.

“I’m not done. Next I want to say that I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry that I keep putting you in difficult situations with no safe way out. I’m sorry for not thinking before I made so many snide comments for so many years. I am sorry for assuming so much about you. It doesn’t matter to me what path brought you to be the man you are today, but I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to appreciate how impressive you were earlier.”

“Why are you doing this?” Grantaire seemed like he had built a wall around his heart, and each of these sincere confessions were just pebbles bouncing off of it.

“I’m doing this because I still want you in my life, however you’ll have me. I didn’t think through what it would mean for us when I asked you to take me as a lover. I thought that our friendship would survive unscathed, but I underestimated what it meant for me to give myself to you like that. I didn’t know that lovemaking starts with you in the words we share over a meal that you prepared especially to see my eyes light up. I didn’t know that you would show me how much I mattered to you by putting my needs first and your own on the back burner. I didn’t know that you would take the time to teach me what consent felt like when it was done with care, or that you would comfort me after each new experience that you gave me so that I never felt dirty or alone or uncared for. I didn’t know how it would cause me to dream about you day and night for weeks on end. I didn’t think becoming your lover would make me fall for you more day by day, but it did. It has shown me that you are gentle, considerate, caring, kind, giving, and so so many other things, Grantaire.”

Grantaire’s eyes misted up as he tried desperately to blink back the tears, uncrossing his arms, walls coming down, “You’re falling for me?”

“Desperately. It hasn’t even been two whole days since you asked me to leave, and it has felt like a lifetime. I haven’t been eating, I’m barely sleeping, I’ve been so useless at work that they asked me to leave early. I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time Googling you and your work because I miss you so damn much. If that isn’t falling for someone, I don’t know what is,” Enjolras wiped the tears from his own eyes and continued, “So Grantaire, please, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with, would you consider welcoming me back into your life?”

“With open arms,” he responded, hesitantly closing the gap between them and enfolding Enjolras in his arms, pulling him in tight.

***

Early that evening, Combeferre and Eponine got a text message from each of their best friends that was simple: a thumbs up. 

***

Enjolras: Why do you always want to meet up on Sundays?  
Grantaire: Do you have anything better to do?  
Enjolras: R. Why do we *really* meet up on Sundays?  
Grantaire: So that I can worship my angel.  
Enjolras: *Eye roll* So um, are we meeting up this Sunday, orrrr...?  
Grantaire: I thought you’d never ask :p  
Enjolras: I’ll take that as a yes?  
Grantaire: 7:30 sound good?  
Enjolras: It sounds like an eternity away...  
Grantaire: Somebody’s eager…  
Enjolras: More than you could possibly imagine.  
Grantaire: We’ll just have to do something about that this weekend ;)

***


	5. Enjolras Wants a Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire has prepared so many wonderful things for Enjolras' awaiting mouth, but Enjolras wants his lips around something that Grantaire has yet to offer.

Dreaming up the menu for each week’s passionate meetup had become a fun type of foreplay that Grantaire indulged himself in privately. This week he wanted to see Enjolras’ eyes light up as the tangy dishes he had prepared for him slipped between his exquisite lips. Chicken piccata would be the main dish-- tart with the sharp taste of capers and a crisp white wine sauce, served over fettuccine noodles. Enjolras would lick the sauce off of his lips, and it would be the end of him. On the side there would be a mix of the delicate soft flavor of fresh mozzarella cheese balls, mixed with the strong flavor of olives and the spicy flavor of salami, the moist artichoke hearts, the crunch of a romaine heart, the give of cherry tomatoes, drizzled with red wine vinaigrette. For dessert, a cold and creamy lemon semifreddo, leaving the tangy taste on his tongue that Grantaire couldn’t wait taste off of him. He always, always would insist on feeding Enjolras first, to enjoy his own private show play across the features of his beloved. If Enjolras never knew why Grantaire went to such efforts to provide a gourmet experience, he was fine with that. 

A side bonus was that he was able to watch Enjolras squirm, almost imperceptibly, as the meal and conversation wore on. He never asked what the lesson was each time, so Grantaire never told him exactly how he planned to have him. This week was going to be the last piece of novel foreplay that he had planned, and his mouth practically watered in anticipation. He didn’t know for certain how Enjolras would respond to his tongue, his hands, his hunger, but finding out what noises he made and how quietly had kept him going out of his mind since Tuesday afternoon. 

He had made the dessert the morning before, after returning from the grocery store. He had made the berry drizzle to top it late that afternoon while having lunch. The antipasto salad had been put together that morning while waiting for his coffee to wake him up. Now a pot of pasta boiled on the stove while a pan of fragrant chicken simmered next to it. Enjolras’ confession that he dreamed of him day and night, that he was falling for him, had driven him slowly mad with desire, imagining how eager Enjolras actually felt had given him nearly constant fantasies about tonight.   
He jumped, shaken from his reveries, when a timid knock sounded on his door. 7:10. Enjolras was early, again. He grinned as he walked to the door-- well well, someone really was eager. 

He opened the door to see his muse standing in profile against the darkness of the street. His breath was visible and his hands were shoved in his pockets, his face pink from the cold… or maybe from something else. He stepped quickly inside and slipped his cold hands beneath Grantaire’s shirt, up his chest then circling around to the back to pull him in close.

“Well, good evening,” Grantaire purred, “Nice to see you too.” He leaned his head down and kissed the top of Enjolras’ head, over his cap. 

“Oh Grantaire, shut the door, it is freezing out there!” Enjolras was actually shivering against him… or maybe shaking from something else. That would be fun to discover. 

Grantaire pulled him inside and shut the door, “We’ll have to see if we can do something about that,” he craned back the smaller man’s head back and kissed him tenderly on his soft lips, feeling the cold pour off him in waves. “Come by the stove, I’m just about to take dinner off and you can warm yourself there.”

Enjolras held his hands over the pan while Grantaire strained the pasta, pulled out two plates, and created matching masterpieces of salad, fettuccini, and eventually reaching around Enjolras to get two pieces of chicken and ladles full of sauce to top it all off with. Sufficiently warmed, Enjolras took a seat at the table and poured glasses of chardonnay. With his food now in front of him and his friend seated across, he started a line of conversation that he had spent days working up his nerve to say.

He tried to look nonplussed as he speared ingredients from his salad together on his fork, but he only succeeded in betraying his nervousness. He stopped, fork overly full, and gazed at Grantaire, who hadn’t yet touched his food. “Grantaire, I was hoping that tonight, I could get to see a little bit more of you.”

Grantaire’s eyebrows raised, “Not much more to see, my dear.”

“It didn’t feel like not much when you held me against you…”

Gulp! Grantaire thought, a sinful smile spreading across his face, “Have you been wondering what I look like without any clothes on, Enjolras?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I have wanted to see it, to touch it for a while now, since you said that you were intimidating. You’ve driven me to distraction Grantaire, I have to know.”

“We’ll have to do something about that after dinner,” his voice flowing like warm honey, “Eat up.” He had never known how arousing it could be to watch a man blush, but with Enjolras those two were now inseparable.

Enjolras practically inhaled his salad, licking the dripping vinaigrette off of his lips unselfconsciously in a way that caused Grantaire to dream of him licking something else with the same gusto. He slowed down when it came to the main course, allowing his face to light up with the tang, slowly swirling the chardonnay in his mouth, in culinary ecstasy. Grantaire knew that his food was good, and he ate it with no hurry, but he only really understood how good it was by watching it play across his lover’s face.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Enjolras had just finished his last bite of pasta and leaned back sultrily in his chair, “There is just so much I want to do with you, so much I want to know.”

Grantaire stood, gathering their plates to put in the sink and get dessert out. “Ask and it shall be yours,” he had pulled a bowl from the fridge and put it on the counter, taking two small plates from the freezer to put next to it. He spooned some dark sugared berries from the bowl on top of each plate and brought them back to the table while Enjolras continued.

“Are you a top?” he asked bluntly.

“Usually.” 

“Does that make me a bottom?”

“You don’t have enough experience yet to know, Apollo. So far you’ve been topped, but you’ve barely begun to explore what it means to be a sexual being. Do you feel like you prefer to have things done to you? Do you feel like you prefer being told what to do, or giving orders? There’s a bit more to it than that. My angel, you’ve barely tasted the joys of intimacy.”

“But if you’re a top, are you going to teach me to do the things to you that you’ve been doing to me? Do I get to try?”

Grantaire paused, he… he had dreamed about that, but he hadn’t planned on it. “You want to learn how to give head?”

Enjolras blushed a deeper shade and nodded, “I know I’m getting ahead of myself trying to fantasize about what it would be like to have you in my mouth when I haven’t even seen you nude yet, but I have been… having dreams about it.” He averted his eyes, hand slightly shaking as he picked up his spoon and cut into his cold dessert.

Grantaire’s eyebrows went up, “Well well, we’ll have to do something about that then,” He’s been thinking about that at night?? Oh lord, whatever I did right, thank you! “Look at me Enjolras.”   
Enjolras raised his eyes as he took the first bite of his creamy dessert, a small ecstasy passing over his face. “How about today you take a look at me, let me treat you to the experience I’ve been planning for you, then you decide if you’re up to it tonight or not. There is absolutely no pressure, not now, not ever. You can change your mind at any time. Hell, you can start doing it, decide you don’t like it, and just stop. That’s fine. I would gladly take part in any experience you felt curious about, but don’t ever, under any circumstance, feel pressured to finish. I want this to be fun for you, and if there is ever anything you wanted to know or wanted to try, I will do the absolute best that I can to give you whatever it is you need. If you feel too shy to even say it aloud, you can text it to me.”

Enjolras pulled out his phone instantly and swiped in a message to Grantaire. His eyebrows rose as he felt his pocket buzz and pulled out his phone to see a waiting message:

Enjolras: What sort of things do you fantasize about doing to me?

It was Grantaire’s turn to blush. What had gotten into Enjolras?? He started out dinner by asking to see him naked, went on to say that he wanted to give him a blowjob, and now this?? I’ve created a monster he thought with pride. “Mmm… too many things to name. I fantasize about making you cum for me over and over again while you call my name desperately. I dream about you taking me between your perfect lips. I can’t stop thinking about sliding inside you and watching your face as I take you to pieces beneath me. Would you like that?”

Enjolras licked off his spoon, dessert finished, and nodded with big blue eyes dilating with desire as Grantaire spoke. 

This time when they came through the bedroom door, Enjolras was unbuttoning his own top with hasty fingers and Grantaire pulled his over his own head. Pants unbuttoned and unzipped, they fell into bed completely intertwined, kissing desperately. 

“Take your pants off,” Enjolras growled, biting Grantaire’s lower lip. Grantaire moaned and backed off of the bed, sliding out of his pants and moving to get back on top of Grantaire. Grantaire held up a hand, “All of it. I want to see you.” Grantaire, aroused by the command in Enjolras’ voice, did exactly as he was told. 

Stripped down, he stood in front of Enjolras, fully erect and just as intimidating as he had promised. His long cock throbbed under the hungry eyes of that blond god, long, curved, uncircumcised and a dark red from the sheer amount of blood rushing through it, iced with a delicate drop of precum. “Step forward,” Enjolras commanded, body sliding forward, when he stopped. He looked up at Grantaire with parted lips, “May I?” 

Grantaire moaned, “Y-yes, anything, yes.” 

Without any hesitation, he grabbed the base firmly with one hand, tilting it downwards slightly so that he could lightly lick the head. Grantaire felt his knees go weak. His Apollo, his angel, then parted his lips, looked straight into his eyes, and slid the very tip into his mouth. Those lips around his cock, that warm tongue lapping lightly at the head, was nearly enough to cause Grantaire to cum right then and there. Grantaire moaned and twitched within against his tongue, leaking precum steadily into his perfect mouth. Enjolras pulled back and went in to take a little more of Grantaire, discovering quickly that there would be no way to get the entire thing into his mouth without gagging, so he made a fist with the hand at the base and started slowly pumping at the same speed he was working Grantaire with his mouth. 

Grantaire was moaning and whispering sweet nothings of encouragement, “Yes, oh god, like that, oh my god Enjolras, your lips are heaven…”. Though he was sloppy and completely lacking in experience, he made up for it with gusto and with the fantasy fulfillment they were both getting to enjoy. He knew that he couldn’t do to Grantaire what had been done to his last week, since the position was wrong, but he found a different way to drive Grantaire over the edge. 

He pulled back, saliva glistening off of his perfect lips and down his chin, looking up with big innocent eyes at Grantaire, asking, “Where do you want to cum?” 

Grantaire gasped, his cock twitching again, “Anywhere you’ll have me. I want to cum in your mouth, on your lips, on your face…” Enjolras plunged him back into his mouth, doing his best, knowing that Grantaire didn’t have long left. A moment later he called out, “Enjolras, oh god, I’m cuming, I’m--” when Enjolras felt him jerk in his mouth and then warm, bitter spurts of cum filled his mouth. He knew it would drive Grantaire crazy, so he pulled him out while he was cumming and pointed him at his mouth, cum glistening off of his face as Grantaire finished. 

The vision Grantaire saw before him, of the love of his life, perfect lips and porcelain skin dripping with his own cum was so beautiful that he could have wept. Enjolras wasn’t done, though, as he licked his lips clean and swallowed. Grantaire felt his cock twitch again and he dove in to kiss Enjolras desperately, holding him close and licking his chin clean of his own mess. Enjolras reached between them and pushed his own pants down, wiggling out of them to be dressed only in boxer briefs that barely held his erection back. He took Grantaire’s hands, placed them at the waist of his black boxer briefs and pushed impatiently at them. Grantaire moaned again and unwrapped him like a present.

When Enjolras’ cock sprang free, Grantaire wanted desperately to lick it top to bottom and ravish Enjolras, but he held himself back, trying doggedly to stick to his plan. He gazed lovingly at the beautiful man spread out below him and gently pushed his knees up while spreading his legs apart. He was graced with the view of perfect legs framing a perfect ass with a nice, thick treat in the middle. His mouth watered. He took Enjolras’ thighs in his hands and hungrily kissed down each one, getting lower, lower, towards the entrance to heaven. He licked his lips, flicked his eyes up to see Enjolras gazing down at him wide eyed, as he moved his hands to the perfect, white hips and lifted, giving him the perfect angle to begin. 

He slowly ran his tongue up the tight muscle around his hole. This drew a gasp from Enjolras that was shocked and delicious. He worked his tongue rhythmically up and down, side to side, pushing a little deeper inside every few seconds, to a chorus of moans and Ohmygods from above him. He hummed a deep note, causing his tongue to vibrate while inside of Enjolras that elicited an even more desperate moan. He slowed down, pulled back, and sat up. He couldn’t let Enjolras finish that quickly, not after how much he had gotten him worked up earlier in the night. 

He leaned forward, reaching into his side drawer and retrieving the lube, being treated to a shocked look from his sweating and rather debauched lover. He poured some on two fingers, spreading it around, and dipped back down. After a few more seconds with his tongue, he pulled back and teased the area with his index finger, sliding it in to the first knuckle. Enjolras made a confused noise, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it was so much less than he had gotten just one minute ago. Grantaire pushed deeper, to the second knuckle before pulling back and putting on some more lube. He slipped it back in, seating it all the way inside, and curled his finger up to find the blond’s prostate. The gasp this elicited was so shocked that he froze in place, “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No! Please don’t stop!” as one long, panted word. He grinned, and started working over his prostate.

Enjolras had never felt anything like it. He felt a tightening in his gut like he was going to cum any minute, but he knew he wasn’t there yet. Grantaire’s finger withdrew, leaving such profound emptiness in its place that Enjolras whined, until a moment later when a second thick finger slowly slid in with the first. He felt so incredibly full and desperate for Grantaire to find that sweet spot again that when he did, he nearly lost his mind. He moaned and writhed, not even knowing what words were leaving his mouth in a desperate stream. Grantaire did, though, relishing in the acts that Enjolras was saying he wanted to do to him. Grantaire knew that he was so close, so in order to throw him over the edge he reached up, grasped Enjolras’ leaking cock with one hand and said in a deep voice, “Enjolras, look at me.” Enjolras strained to tilt his head downwards, completely wrecked, “Now cum for me.” 

He stroked his cock three times before Enjolras lost it, his face the picture of pure ecstasy, cumming all over his own stomach and chest while calling out, “Grantaire! Yes, oh god yes, don’t stop!” Grantaire guided him through the orgasm, then lightly pulled his fingers out and reached for the box of tissues to start getting them cleaned up. Enjolras, feeling more worn out and vulnerable than ever, reached instead to topple the larger man on top of him and hold on to him like his life depended on it, gasping for breath as his cum was spread over both of their torsos. Grantaire chuckled, kissed his forehead, and held him tight until his breathing slowed and his grip loosened. 

Grantaire peeled himself off of the smaller man and went to the bathroom, washing his hands and getting a warm, damp cloth to clean them both off with. He emerged, free from the sticky mess, a minute later and lovingly wiped Enjolras down, leaning down to kiss him again. He even did a swipe to clean the lube from between his lovely cheeks, drawing a gasp from his debauched lover. The cloth got chucked into the laundry basket and he rejoined the blond in bed, enveloping him in his giant arms, pulling him in close. 

“You never cease to amaze me,” Grantaire cooed to Enjolras, sleepily. 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Enjolras cuddled in, holding tight to the thick arms wrapped around him.

“No, I’m serious. The way you took charge? My god, if you had half the confidence in the bedroom that you have in the courtroom, I’d be done for.”

“Did you… like it?”

“I loved it. You knew what you wanted and I am more than happy to make sure that you get just that. I just had the sexiest blow job of my life from the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met. I must have died and gone to heaven…”

“I’m less nervous now than I was before…”

“Good. I want you to feel at ease in the bedroom. It shouldn’t make you anxious, if anything it should make you excited.”

“I just… I didn’t think things would feel good back there. I got even more nervous when I saw exactly how big you are, and I felt pretty certain that there was no way you could fit all of that inside of me, but whatever you just did? That was mind blowing. I’ve never felt anything like it... I trust you to take care of me, Grantaire, and everything you’ve done so far has felt right.”

Grantaire pulled him in tight and kissed the back of his neck, “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, my love, you’re in good hands.”

“Mmm…” Enjolras yawned, “My love,” and with that he dozed off.

Grantaire held him close in the dark, blushing to himself and smiling with the pure joy of being alive.

***


	6. Never Stop Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire pours his passion for Enjolras into his art. Enjolras pours his passion for Grantaire into his activism. When there are together, their passion has nowhere else to go except toward the inevitable conclusion.

Grantaire was taken by a creative fury in the week to come. It usually took him 75 hours from end to end to finish a painting, but now? He was on fire! His pace of just about one per week had increased for twofold reasons-- he had gotten down to three drinks per day, so his head was delightfully clear, and he was inspired to put as much beauty into the world as possible. The man he had fallen for when they were mere boys of 18 was now, finally, beginning to fall for him too. He had finished a heart rending piece of Mary Magdalene kneeling and weeping at the base of the cross, her green eyes turned up towards her dead leader, one fallen drop of blood rolling off of her face. This week he felt inspired to create the heavily erotic piece of a close up on Eve as she bit into a juicy apple. He took Eponine as his base model, with her gorgeous mahogany skin, sparkling white teeth, and natural loose curls. 

He went to her to take some reference images with a gorgeous red apple and a luscious green one. She was quite the trooper, agreeing to model during her lunch on Tuesday so long as he would bring a picnic to the park near her work. He packed sandwiches, fruit, and iced tea, getting there are 1:00 to sit with her on a bench, spending 15 minutes on photographs while she playfully grilled him on exactly WHAT had happened in the past week and how things had turned out.

“So are you two an item, or what?” Eponine asked between pictures.

“I… don’t know what we are,” he replied vaguely, focusing and changing the depth of the zoom.

“Are you sleeping together?” She was too excited to hide it in her voice.

“Not yet...” Grantaire moved to another angle and snapped a few more.

“WHAT?? R! You’ve got to spill! You can’t keep this from me!” She huffed.

“There’s nothing to tell, really. I mean, he comes over for dinner once a week, then whatever happens happens and he leaves. Nothing to tell,” he evaded, snapping one last picture. “All done! Thanks Ep, you’re a lifesaver. I shall endeavor to capture the essence of your beauty and grace… and then, you know, add a bit on top,” he smiled playfully. 

She reached into the bag he brought, pulled out a sandwich and smiled serenely while unwrapping it. “So, uh, tell me some details about what happens when whatever happens happens.”

He groaned inwardly, you couldn’t slip anything by Eponine, that much was certain. “Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Ever. Under the pain of death!” He could be a bit dramatic at times, but she loved that about him. 

Over the next ten minutes she ate her sandwich and drank her iced tea in awe while he related to her one of the most unbelievable stories she had ever heard. If he hadn’t been her best friend, she never would have believed him, but he wouldn’t lie to her by anything except omision, and he was omitting nothing. 

“Holy shit Grantaire! That’s a fucking dream come true for you. Jesus! I wish my love life were that hot, but good for you! I’m jealous! So he’s really into you-- God, about time!”

“Right??” He asked, blushing and grinning. Everything was finally turning up for him, and no matter how it turned out in the end, at least he had lived to see his most ardently held dream come true.

***

As far as Wednesday meetings had gone, this one was par for the course. Enjolras had made great progress on getting transportation for food donations to the regional food bank from various local churches, as well as name dropping the other donors to rope more grocery stores and coffee shops into donating their newly expired ready-to-eat foods. He had gone personally to get three more dentists to accept five free patients by lottery per month. He had also contacted the Wounded Warriors project to propose a partnership to make homes for homeless veterans. His next step, which he would take first thing in the morning, would be to meet with the city to request a plot of land with a monthly $1 rental fee to place the proposed 24 structures. He had been burning up with energy in the past week and he felt unstoppable. He also had a sparkle in his eye and an unexplained distant smile that was driving Combeferre crazy. He never expected candid details about his best friend’s life, he was a private man after all, but as far as he understood something big must have happened last week and he had to know what it was! 

“Enjolras, and forgive me if I’m overstepping here, but I have to know-- what happened between you and R last week?” Combeferre’s curiosity would be the death of him, it seemed.

“Oh, um, I apologized for putting him in a situation where he felt forced to disclose personal information, I made it clear that I valued his continued friendship, he forgave me, and we had dinner last weekend like nothing had happened.”

“Riiiight… What aren’t you telling me?”

Enjolras answered too quickly to be anything less than embarrassed or guilty… maybe both. “Really Combeferre, nothing! We just made up!”

“Oh. My. God! You’re sleeping with him! Are you really having sex with Grantaire?? You have to tell me Enjolras, I’m your best friend and I need to know-- how big is he??”

“Jesus Combeferre! Keep your voice down!” He blushed, looking quickly around and lowering his voice, “We aren’t sleeping together. Yet. But Combeferre, and don’t tell anyone or you’re fucking dead, he is HUGE.” 

Combeferre squeaked and covered his mouth so that he didn’t draw any more attention to their table, then changed his mind, leapt up, ran around the table, pulled Enjolras to his feet bodily, wrapped his arms around him and jumped up and down squeaking. “Enjolras, oh my God, I’m so happy for you!” Then he planted a loud kiss on Enjolras’ cheek and twirled him around, just once. He sat him back on the ground. “Promise me, after you’ve done the deed, that you’ll tell me all about it! Aah! I can’t believe it!”

Enjolras smiled, embarrassed to be part of such a public display of affection and returned to his seat. He leaned conspiratorially across the table. Combeferre rushed back to his seat to lean in and hear a blushing Enjolras quietly declare, “I promise that, once it has happened, you’ll get a vivid report.” 

***  
Eve’s beautiful face peered out of the painting, warm skin glowing in the green tinted light of the garden. Her eyes, dark brown but flecked with green, were seductive and inviting. Juice ran down her chin from the warmly green apple she was biting into, forming a single droplet ready to fall. Her bouncy and lustrous hair had a plaited headband of leaves woven in. Grantaire finished up the final details on her face and sat back, admiring his work. Ep would love this. His buyer would be struck by how inviting she looked. Hell, he had rarely been so proud of a work as he was of this one. It could have been the painting, or maybe it was the way that the whole world looked more beautiful to him now. Tonight, if everything went as planned, he would make love to the love of his life. His nerves had almost gotten the most of him

He had made the dessert, caramel budino, the evening before while eating leftovers for dinner. He had prepped the vegetables for roasting that morning, seasoned and oiled, before forcing himself to finish his commission. The late October weather had been rather sharp and biting, and he was happy to be by his stove, preheating his oven to 425 and going back to clean his paint supplies. An hour before Enjolras would arrive. He gathered his ingredients for chicken marsala, shook his bowl of prepared vegetables to ensure an even coating of oil, and dumped them into a dark baking dish. He slid them into the oven right when it got up to temperature. It would only take 30 minutes for the vegetables, and about the same for the chicken. He put his water on to boil and got to work. He tried to keep his mind on the task at hand so that his mind, trying to be calm for when Enjolras arrived so that he could be in the right headspace to give him the best possible first time. Oh god he thought, biting his lip I am going to be the one to take his virginity, fuck that’s hot. 

He focused again, getting his chicken browned on both sides, pouring in the cream, wine, mushrooms and spices. The water boiled and he threw in a mid sized handful of angel hair pasta to serve the chicken atop. Time passed, he saw attentively to his cooking, and before he knew it he was shaken from his reverie by a knock at the door. He savored the fact that Enjolras was knocking at his door 25 minutes early because of the extra time it promised to bed him properly... then he went to answer it. 

Enjolras, dressed for the cold weather, practically leapt inside and planted a quick kiss on Grantaire’s smiling lips before closing the door quickly and firmly.

“Good evening, handsome,” Grantaire felt his heart skip a beat at how eager and sweet Enjolras was upon entering. “Food is almost ready.” 

Almost like clockwork, the oven timer beeped to show that the vegetables were done. Grantaire went to retrieve them, sprinkle them with fresh parmesan, stir the chicken, drain the pasta, and generally get dinner onto plates. 

Enjolras, all smiles and nervous excitement, was taking off his shoes and cold weather wear and placing it in their rightful places, enjoying this domestic dance that he had come to look so much forward to. He had so much to tell Grantaire about his week! So many good things had happened for his nonprofit and he really felt like his life was going in the right direction. On his way to the table, he quickly looped through the canvasses, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at the breathtaking newest composition. It was evocative, striking… it was gorgeous.

“Oh Grantaire! Has Eponine seen this yet? It is heartbreakingly beautiful!” 

“Not yet, I just finished it an hour or so ago. Do you like it?”

“I love it! Grantaire, you do a lot of religious art-- do you have a religion?”

“No, not me. I just find some of the imagery in the Bible to be striking, and often I read it as much more erotic than it may have been intended. I think that’s a me issue, though, not necessarily the text. What about you, Apollo? Didn’t you grow up Catholic? How did that make such a dedicated atheist out of you?”

“Catholic school,” he replied simply. “So much of history shows the grasp for power and control that the church has been engaged in. I want the power for the people, not for those promising them eternal paradise for lifelong sacrifice and compliance.”

Dinner was now plated and Grantaire was pouring glasses of pinot noir to pair with their meal. They sat down and continued their heated discussion of the historical role that the church had played in keeping the populace powerless. 

“You know, having been enrolled in a private school for my entire education, I didn’t get the same protections that you had as a student. I was punished, weekly, for my subversive behavior by the head priest-- like how you had a principal. There I was, black slacks around my thighs, regulation white briefs visible to the whole world, bent over the desk in the office being paddled and having to say ‘Yes, sir,’ and ‘No, sir’ to things that we both knew that I never meant.”

Grantaire choked on his wine, “Jesus, that’s fucking hot.”

Enjolras goggled at him, “That’s news to me! It didn’t feel so fucking hot. It was humiliating.”

Grantaire twirled his pasta onto this fork and sat in thought for a moment, “No, definitely fucking hot. If I had the opportunity to bend you over a desk and spank you, I would be able to die happy.”

Enjolras blushed, “Are you into that sort of thing?” He asked, with horrified fascination.

“Not until just now I wasn’t,” Grantaire put a thoughtful fork full of pasta into his mouth, “I swear you’ll be the death of me.” 

***

Grantaire could taste the creamy caramel on Enjolras’ lips, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He kissed him slowly, languorously enjoying his soft lips, the feel of his silky hair as he ran his fingers through it, the tensing of his muscles as he ran his fingertips over them. He couldn’t let tonight be rushed and frenzied, it had to be romantic. He had placed some nice, rose scented candles around his bedroom, care of Eponine, far enough away that they couldn’t be knocked over, but good to set a romantic ambience of flickering amber tones. He had a dim light burning in the corner, throwing a smooth and constant glow over everything. He undid Enjolras’ signature white collared shirt beneath him, sliding it slowly off of his body while kissing his newly exposed skin reverently. His own shirt joined Enjolras’ on the ground by the bed. 

As soon as his shirt came off, Enjolras leaned up using his elbows to kiss Grantaire’s torso, gently fastening his teeth about one nipple and playfully flicking his tongue out, reaching a hand around to try to grab the taller man’s ass. He couldn’t reach, but he dragged his hand tantalizingly across his lower back anyway. Grantaire moaned, pushing Enjolras down and ravishing his torso in return, leaving biting kisses all the way down to his navel, where he planted a light kiss and looked up expectantly at Enjolras’ face, waiting for permission. Enjolras nodded, eyes aflame with desire, and watched hungrily as Grantaire undid his jeans and slid them off piously, drinking in the sight of the beautiful man stretched out beneath him in only tight boxer briefs, aroused and waiting to be taken. He undid and removed his own pants, revealing his own straining boxer briefs, barely containing his excitement. 

Enjolras sat up, biting his lip, and reached out to trail fingers lightly over Grantaire’s erection, being met with a low moan that turned into him being kissed into the bed by his lover’s eager mouth. Enjolras’ hands wandered up and down Grantaire’s body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Grantaire moaned into his mouth as his own hands traveled down the smaller man’s body to rest at the top of his boxer briefs, fingertips resting just below the surface before he pulled back from kissing him to look into his tight shut eyes, opening to show how dilated and dark blue they were in that flickering light. Grantaire waited for permission, and Enjolras nodded to grant it, rocking back onto his heels to gently slide them off of the slim man’s body. He looked like a feast laid out before him, and his hunger couldn’t be sated. 

Before he was able to lean back down, Enjolras held out a hand to stop him, “Yours too, please. I want to see all of you,” his voice had a deeper bend to it than Grantaire had ever heard outside of the bedroom, and that alone would have been enough to drive him crazy. He stood somewhat awkwardly and stripped the rest of his clothing off, sliding back onto the bed and over the slight and perfect body of the love of his life. 

Grantaire deeply kissed Enjolras again, grabbing a handful of his hair and turning his head to the side, leaving a series of biting kisses down the side of his neck. He released the hair and slid down further, kissing a path to his sharp hip bones and down further still as Enjolras writhed beneath him. He paused, his mouth poised just millimeters away from his angel’s thick cock, beaded lightly with precum, and looked up into his blue eyes. Enjolras nodded, face flushed with anticipation as he watched Grantaire delicately kiss the tip and lick it clean, his velvety tongue warm and oh so inviting. Enjolras gasped, a sound that traveled straight to Grantaire’s cock as he softly grabbed the smaller man’s ankles and pushed them up and apart, moving his hands to the muscular thighs and running them lightly up and down. Enjolras moaned his name as Grantaire lightly kissed and nibbled his way down the short, muscled thighs that he had spread before him. 

Grantaire leaned up to grab lube and a condom from the side drawer, taking a moment so gaze at his masterpiece, panting below him. His heart ached as he opened the lube and spread it on his left index, middle, and ring fingers. Slowly, he leaned back in and kissed the man he loved, flicking out his tongue around the tight muscle surrounding his hole. Enjolras gasped in response, and he went to work in earnest, before slowing down to a complete standstill to give Enjolras a moment to catch his breath before he began the next part. 

The loss of sensation caused Enjolras to make desperate, whining noises in his throat, which developed into thrilled gasps as he felt Grantaire run one slick finger around his hole and slowly insert it. Seeking and finding his prostate, Grantaire teased him for a bit before pulling that finger out to put more lube on it and slip it back in with a second finger. There was a momentary burn of being so completely full until Grantaire started a slow rhythm of moving his fingers around inside of him-- stretching him out slowly and stroking his prostate with just enough regularity to make him whine for it. The pain was gone, replaced by pleasure, when Grantaire withdrew again. More lube, and to his shock and utter pleasure, Grantaire slowly slid in a third thick finger. There was more pain this time, but also more pleasure as he rhythmically moved and stretched out his lover, making him writhe beneath him and beg him never to stop. He withdrew his fingers again, drawing out a long, low stream of quiet pleading from Enjolras, as he rolled on his condom and lubed himself up, lining up on the cusp of penetrating him before pausing. 

“Enjolras,” he commanded, “Look at me.” Enjolras opened his dilated eyes, a panting wanton mess, and looked deeply into Grantaire’s. “Do you permit it?”

His muscles shook in response, he inhaled a deep breath and nodded, “Please Grantaire, make love to me.”

Grantaire’s cock twitched and he moaned, hearing those blessed words from his sainted mouth. Slowly, painstakingly, he pushed forward into his lover’s tight body, taking his time to give Enjolras the opportunity to get used to the new stretch. This was better than anything Enjolras had ever felt, though it was certainly both thicker and longer than Grantaire’s fingers, and he allowed his mouth to run on without thinking about what it said while Grantaire took him. Grantaire listened to his filthy words, making his restraint barely sustainable as he was given both the tight warmth of his beloved and the delicious desires he had for their future. 

When he was fully inside, Grantaire paused to give Enjolras a moment to adjust to the full length before slowly drawing all the way back out to apply more lube. A bit faster this time, he started a steady pumping rhythm, striking his lover’s prostate with each stroke. 

Enjolras shook beneath him, moaning and begging, “Grantaire, please, faster, please, don’t stop, God yes!” Grantaire sped up, drowning in the sensations of the tight, warm body of his lover, feeling him come apart beneath the steady thrusts. It wasn’t long now. 

“Enjolras, look at me,” he spoke softly, breathily, as Enjolras obeyed and trained his beautiful blue eyes on him. “I love you so much, now cum for me.” With that he reached down and firmly grasped the thick cock below him, pumping it over and over while Enjolras shook and moaned.

“Grantaire, yes, don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop I’m so close, fuck I love you, please--” he came in spurts all over his own chest, muscles clamping down tightly around Grantaire. He loves me?? That was all Grantaire needed to be driven over the edge, thrusting roughly into the smaller man as he came, calling out his lover’s name.

He drew out out of his lover and collapsed on top of Enjolras, kissing him desperately and not minding the sticky mess between them. Enjolras kissed back fervently, tangling his fingers in his lover’s hair and whispering, “I love you,” into his mouth over and over again. When their breathing slowed and Enjolras’ hands loosened in Grantaire’s hair, the larger man got up and went to the bathroom. He disposed of the condom, wet a cloth and used it to wipe himself down before taking it out to clean off his lover. He aimed the towel at the hamper and slid back into bed with Enjolras, taking the smaller man in his arms and pulling him in tight.

“You love me,” he spoke dreamily, not believing what he had heard, but wishing it into being.

“I do. Fervently,” Enjolras replied. “I just made love to my first love.”

“So did I,” Grantaire planted a kiss onto Enjolras’ shoulder. 

“When do we get to do it again?” Enjolras asked, sleepily.

Grantaire moaned in response, “You’ll be the death of me, but I’ll be the last one you’ll hear complaining about it.” He landed another kiss on his lover’s back. “Text me about it later, now I think I want to fall asleep with you in my arms.”

And he did.

*** 

Grantaire woke up two hours later, Enjolras still in his arms, breathing the soft sleep of dreams. He kissed him awake, got him dressed, and ordered him a ride home. He kissed him softly and slowly at the door and watched him go into the night. 

***


	7. The Grand Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the big finale, what will their future hold?

When Enjolras’ alarm went off at 6:30, he stayed in his warm bed, playing back through the magical night. They were in love. They were intimate. They were sharing parts of themselves in confidence with each other that they guarded very closely-- so what were they? 

Enjolras: Good morning my love.  
Grantaire: Good morning beautiful. Did you have a nice night?  
Enjolras: About that...  
Grantaire: Ummm… yes???  
Enjolras: I was hoping you’d come by my place tonight. Change of scene.  
Grantaire: …? Is something up between us?  
Enjolras: No I just...   
Enjolras: I can’t wait six more days to see you, but I don’t want to impose.  
Enjolras: So I was hoping to just see you for some take out and talking.  
Grantaire: Are you just saying that to try to get me in bed again?  
Enjolras: I guess you’ll just have to find out ;)  
Grantaire: Perfect.  
Grantaire: 7:30?   
Enjolras: Better make it seven. I’m getting impatient to see you again <3  
Grantaire: 7:00 it is.   
Enjolras: Sleep well, dream of me <3  
Grantaire: Oh you can bet on that. 

*** 

Enjolras’ apartment was so utterly him that it warmed Grantaire to the core. There were no frills, no unnecessary decor, just a very practical space with a gorgeous library full of socialist masterpieces. He had a desk, covered with neat piles of paper separated by project type, with a matching filing cabinet on each side. This was the home of a clearly organized, conscientious man where serious people could get on with the business of changing the world around them. He had forgotten, over the last several weeks, exactly how impressive and intimidating of a man Enjolras was, but this reminder only caused his heart to ache with more pride. He had arrived exactly on time, but after a quick kiss Enjolras had to take an unexpected but clearly important call about one of his projects, and so Grantaire had been wandering through the more public spaces of the apartment to await the return of the host.

He heard Enjolras’ voice carrying indistinctly through his bedroom door, then there was a long pause, a short exchange, and he emerged from his bedroom, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry, I had to take that. It seems I’ve run into some red tape along the journey to homing our unhomed veterans and I wasn’t in the mood to take no for an answer. It looks like I’ll have my work cut out for me this week, but enough about me. Thanks so much for coming on such short notice-- I think there is something we need to talk about.”

Panic began to flare within Grantaire Oh shit! How did we go from such a lovely night to… whatever this is?? “I’m listening,” Grantaire responded evenly.

“You know that I respect and value you very much, Grantaire,” Oh no, here we go, Grantaire thought, mentally bracing himself for the worst. “But I am feeling a bit vulnerable and insecure right now. I know that you love me. You know that I’ve fallen for you. I want you to be more than an old friend that has taken me into his bed. I want to be something else to you. I want to be able to talk about you to everyone I know and shout your name from the rooftops. I want to take stupid romantic selfies with you and go on dates-- real actual dates, in public, where I can hold your hand. I know I sound very need--.” He was silenced by Grantaire’s kisses, enveloped by his huge arms, pulled in tight to his chest. When he pulled back, Enjolras looked up to notice tears in Grantaire’s eyes.

“Enjolras,” he spoke with a shaking voice, taking Enjolras’ hands, “Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend, going on real actual dates, shouting my name from the rooftops, taking stupid selfies with me, and feeling secure and invulnerable and deeply loved?” Grantaire’s heart was singing as he looked into the deep blue eyes of the man that he loved and saw them fill with tears too.

“There is nothing else I would rather be and do right now than that,” Enjolras pulled Grantaire down to kiss him again. 

“Let’s celebrate,” Grantaire spoke against his lips.

“Mmm… Yes, let’s,” and with that Enjolras pulled him into his bedroom.

***

Enjolras’ bedroom matched the rest of his apartment and was oddly empty. There was a bed with deep red sheets and matching comforter, a dresser, a door into a bathroom, another into a closet, a small bedside table and garbage can, with not much else visible.

The men had stretched out on the bed, kissing passionately while reveling in undressing each other slowly. Grantaire felt more secure now that Enjolras had begun to reciprocate his feelings, and he was high in the heavens with joy and excitement. Enjolras straddled the larger man’s naked body, leaning down to kiss him passionately, causing their cocks to rub against one another deliciously. This sent a chill through Grantaire’s body as he moaned quietly into the perfect lips of his love. Enjolras threaded his fingers though Grantaire’s hair and tightened his grip, pulling his head back and trailing a hot tongue down his throat, kissing and nibbling the sensitive area where it met his shoulder. Sliding downwards, he made a path of kisses and nibbles down Grantaire’s torso, relishing the chorus of quiet moans and ohmygods that he drew out of his lover. Enjolras’ plump lips left hot kisses down hip bones, down the deliciously soft skin of a scandalously hard cock, and further down his thighs before stopping. Grantaire panted below him, looking scandalized and breathless when Enjolras hummed, “Flip over and pull your knees up.”

Grantaire quickly complied, aroused and thrilled that Enjolras was taking control, but legitimately worried about how this might turn out. He didn’t think that Enjolras was ready, but he wasn’t about to discourage him, he just had to be very delicate with the guidance that he was giving. He felt the smaller man lean forward to reach into his bedside table and heard the quiet click of a bottle of lube opening. He smiled to himself, flattered at how Enjolras had taken his lesson to heart-- well well, Enjolras had prepared for this eventuality. His eyes widened when Enjolras leaned in close to him and whispered, “Put this on,” placing a condom next to him.

He hurriedly did as he was told before settling back in to his favorite position to receive, though missing being able to gaze at Enjolras and his body. After a few moments of tense expectation, he felt electricity shoot through him as Enjolras’ slender fingers slowly began to tease the muscle around his hole as he gasped. Enjolras slid one finger into Grantaire, a bit too quickly for him to be prepared for it, and he let out a shocked noise. “Enjolras, please love, a little slower. I can’t handle that speed,” and he felt Enjolras pause momentarily before curling his finger up and searching for right spot inside of his lover.

“I’ll go as slow as I can until you beg me to go faster.” Gulp! Grantaire moaned at the thought. He wasn’t sure he had ever been with a man with quite the girth that Enjolras was blessed with, so this stretching out was going to be very important to spend time on. 

With that, he found the prostate and drew a cry out from his lover, noting where it was approximately so that he could be sure to hit it again and again. He drew his finger out and applied perhaps a bit too much lube, over compensating for his earlier mistake, and slowly worked in two. He was trying to mimic with his hands what he had felt Grantaire doing to him the couple of times he had penetrated him with his fingers, and what he had figured out was that he needed to use lube regularly, find the prostate, and maintain some slow rhythm. 

He did his best until Grantaire spoke up, voice thick with desire, “Now take your fingers and very slowly spread them apart. Stretch me out for a bit before trying for the third.” Glad for the guidance, he tried it and was met with an encouraging series of Ohgodyesjustlikethats from the man he was manually taking to pieces. Feeling like it was a good time, he brought his two fingers back together and pulled them out, putting lube on his ring finger and delicately slipping them all in. He kept a steady rhythm, progressively stretched his lover out more and more, and regularly struck his prostate. The anticipation of sliding into his lover’s body like this for the first time kept his hands slightly shaking and his cock painfully hard. He was getting impatient, so he pulled his fingers out, slipped on his condom, and lubed up his cock, lining it up.

“Grantaire,” He tried to sound deep and commanding, but his nervousness slightly ruined the effect, “Can I make love to you now?” He heard his lover’s breathing hitch in his throat.

His voice also came out much more desperate than he had hoped, “Please.”

When he felt his lover slide into his body with his thick cock, the burn of the stretch was both overwhelming and heavenly. He gasped, “Enjolras, please, slow down. You’re so big, I can hardly take you at this speed.”

Enjolras momentarily paused, giving Grantaire a moment to get used to him at that depth before resuming motion much more slowly until he was fully sheathed, hips to ass. Here he started a slow and steady rhythm of pulling himself about halfway out before rocking back in, gently at first.

“Do you like that? Do you like the feel of my thick cock inside of you?”

“Y-yes,” Grantaire gasped, enjoying the hot desire in Enjolras’ voice. It had been quite a while since he had been on the receiving end, and though he wasn’t used to being topped, anything for his love. “I love how huge you are.”

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you.” Enjolras was so demanding in his words that he had to be obeyed.

“I want you to-- fuck me fast, hard, and deep. I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for days. Please Enjolras, my love,” he panted and thus it began.

Enjolras pulled back much further and snapped his hips forward, quite suddenly switching to overdrive to fuck Grantaire like he was on a mission. He held tight onto his hips and used them for leverage to thrust deeply and with a punishing precision. Grantaire gasped at the shocking sensation of being savaged by his lover. He cried out as he felt Enjolras bend forward and reach around to take his cock in hand and start to pump it roughly.

“Do you like that? Do you want more?”

“Y-Yes, oh never stop touching me Enjolras--” He felt a pumping surge in his cock, “Oh Enjolras, I’m so close, please--” Even he didn’t know what he was begging for, but Enjolras doubled down, snapping his hips forward while handling his member.

“Grantaire, I want you to be a good boy and cum for me. Can you do that, love?” His voice deep and breathy. 

“Y-yes, yes, I can, I-- I’m--” The surging feeling overtook him and he cried out, “Enjolras--” as he came hard.

Enjolras let go of his cock and readjusted his position, feeling Grantaire tighten around his cock in the throes of passion, roughly pumping into him a few more times before the warmth, tightness, and pulsing of his lover’s muscles pulled him over the edge too, calling out his name.

He pulled out of Grantaire, turned so that his body could fall onto the mattress and collapsed, panting desperately as he tried to get enough air into his lungs. 

Grantaire, feeling suddenly empty and having had the entire experience without being able to see or hold his partner, rotated himself so that he could collapse facing Enjolras, being treated to the view of his flushed cheeks and glistening skin. He leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, throwing one arm over him in desperate need of affection. 

Enjolras reached for the tissues by the bed and cautiously removed his condom, wiping himself clean. He passed the box to Grantaire, picking up the small bin and angling it towards him. He disposed of the mess and, finally cooled down enough to seek out full body snuggles, pulled Enjolras close for some comfort, front to back.

Enjolras snuggled into the bigger man’s arms and spoke quietly, almost shyly after such an outstanding performance, “Did I do alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Grantaire pulled the blond into his body and snuggled in, “You were breathtaking. You did hurt me a bit, but I don’t know if it is even possible to take that much cock and not end up sore. Enjolras-- that was really really hot.”

“I wanted to try out being on top. I hoped I’d like it, I hoped you’d enjoy being topped for once, and you said that I needed to explore if I wanted to learn about myself. So, um, I did some research on what that might look and sound like, and um, I… tried it.”

“Is that why you wanted me to come over today?” Grantaire chuckled.

“No! I wanted you to come over so we could talk about dating… I figured if it went well, we could see where it went from there…”

Grantaire kissed Enjolras lightly on the back of his head, “So-- did you like it?”

“It was really hot, but I couldn’t see your beautiful eyes and it didn’t feel as… intimate as last night was. I knew I would be nervous because it was my first time, but I wanted to learn if I preferred being a top or bottom more.”

“And?” 

“I really enjoyed both, honestly. Getting to touch you, having you touch me-- both are absolute heaven. But I don’t know what I’m doing yet,” He snuggled in closely, “I was excited to be doing something new with you, but nervous that I was going about it all wrong.”

“Your enthusiasm is fucking hot, you are an amazing lover, and whenever you want to try something with me, just ask me how to go about it in a way that you’ll feel good about. Don’t think that I’m about to judge you for your curiosity. Chances are, I’ve already done everything you’re interested in trying a few times. For the record, even though you were nervous, you did spectacularly. You are right though, I would have loved to see your face when you were topping me, I can only imagine how sexy you looked.” 

Enjolras flipped around within his lover’s arms and kissed him tenderly, “Thank you for being such a great boyfriend. I love you,” he gazed into his green eyes warmly and was kissed back momentarily with fervor.

Enjolras’ stomach grumbled, “I ordered Thai delivery for 8:15, I think I’d better get cleaned up and dressed, otherwise what will the delivery driver think?” He smiled and rolled out of bed, giving Grantaire the perfect view of his gorgeous backside walking away.

***

Grantaire walked home under the cold stars, passing neighborhoods alight with Jack-o-Lanterns and full of mischief. A crisp wind ruffled his hair and brushed its fingers across his exposed skin, and he didn’t care. His heart’s one true desire was his. Yes, Enjolras would always be busy trying to fix the world he inhabited, and with all the problems there were, he wouldn’t always be in this city. One day he would probably pass responsibility to his nonprofit to Courfeyrac and go back to practicing law, maybe with the ACLU, maybe not. Then, one day in the distant future, he would either become a judge that eventually ended up on the Supreme Court, or he would go the other path and wind up in the Oval Office. A man that great was always destined for great things. 

He wasn’t sure what that meant for him, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, he would finish his commissions before the year’s end. After that, and with enough money to finish paying off art school with some nice wiggle room, he’d probably shack up with his love for as many moments as he could steal him and build a new gallery full of pieces on a topic now very close to his heart-- revolutionaries and visionaries. 

It was going to be a big, beautiful, utterly terrifying journey, but they were going to take it together. So much of it would be new and nerve wracking for them both, but as he had been learning time and again over these last few weeks, new things with Enjolras always contained that spark of magic that made everything worth the effort. Finally home, he let himself in to begin working until sunrise, sending off a quick goodnight to the love of his life.

Grantaire: Tonight was wonderful and I love you.  
Enjolras: I love you too, babe. I’m going to bed in a minute, I wish you were with me.  
Grantaire: Let’s try that next, it sounds lovely. Goodnight. Apollo, dream of me <3  
Enjolras: Always.

The journey of his life had been twisted, and it had taken him through some of the darkest times he could have imagined, but it brought him here, to a man whom he loved that loved him in return. No matter how long he may live, he could never wish himself a greater happiness than this, or a greater hope for the promise of the future.


End file.
